Atlas
by justbreatheinflames
Summary: I will no longer be updating this story. I apologize to everyone who is left hanging because of this, however, after the obvious events of the 100 I lost faith in the characters. Perhaps at a later point I will pick this back up again, or write a new story. Again, I apologize to all my wonderful readers, but I will not offer you half-hearted writing. (Lexa and Clarke)
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This is my first story. I also have limited access to the series. So if you take the time to read this and like it, feel free to review it with recommendations or any corrections. Reviews are awesome and they will make me love your virtual self. I don't quite know where this story is headed, and I'm always one episode behind, so I don't know what happens in 2x11 yet. But I'll get there. Honestly I just wanted to write something about these two amazing women. Oh, and the rating is definitely going to change in the future. Thanks! Enjoy!_

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Clarke woke with a start, her chest constricting as her lungs desperately fought her body to take in the oxygen her heart needed. She was covered in a cold sweat, the scratchy blanket wrapped haphazardly around her waist and left leg, proof that she had spent another night twisting and turning restlessly in her sleep. Another night fighting dreams.

She tried to calm her heart, closing her eyes and pressing a fist into her forehead, as though it could dispel the dark scenes her mind had delivered her instead of sorely needed rest. Yet even as her breathing slowly regained normalcy, the tension in her chest did not subside. She had dreamt of dark beasts with long fangs running havoc in the settlement, tearing her friends and family apart limb from limb. She had heard tortured screams surround her, yet even with all the death she knew their source to be Mount Weather. She had seen red eyes filled with blood and rage, and the forest go up in black smoke.

Sighing, Clarke slowly sat up on her bed. There seemed no reprieve from the onslaught of horrors, whether it be in life or during her sleep. Yet at least in life she had the ability to control some small part of what happened in all the chaos she had been dropped into. Dressing slowly, she splashed some cold water on her face and made her way outside.

The sun was just beginning to make its presence known on the horizon, not yet delivering any warmth, but lighting the sky in a pale hard grey. Even so, the camp was already alive with activity, albeit mainly due to the Grounders. They moved about, gathering food, sharpening weapons, training, discussing with one another in their tongue, glaring at her as she walked by. She made a mental note to make a greater effort to learn the language, it would be beneficial to uphold more than a one-sentence conversation with these people, especially if Quint was anything to go by. Who knew who else might be planning on ambushing her, and this time Lexa may not save her.

_Lexa. _Clarke frowned as she aimlessly followed her feet through the camp, working off the night's agitation. That girl was equal parts frustrating and exhilarating. Stubborn and wise. Wild and controlled. Clarke's eyebrows furrowed together as she recalled being in the cage with her as the monstrous gorilla had been pounding against the weakening metal door. How she had said to not be afraid, that death was not the end. Yet Clarke was almost certain she had heard her voice waver, she had seen the look of determination in her eyes, not one that was accepting her fate, but one the burned with the desire to live. To be free.

She was jolted out of her thoughts by a loud cheer ahead of her. Snapping her head up, she saw a small group of Grounders formed in a large disjointed circle ahead of her, watching multiple people spar in the middle. Focusing her eyes on the figures in the center, she recognized one's distinct shape. Her chestnut hair swirling around her face which was covered in a light sheen of perspiration, eyes ablaze with determination and focus as she weaved her body in and out of the thrusts and attacks of her opponents.

Lexa's left arm still moved somewhat stiffly, most likely still sore from the fall, yet it did nothing to deduct from her elegance as she fought her underlings. Without taking her eyes off of the figure, Clarke slowly drifted closer to the battle, watching with awe.

The Commander was fighting two male warriors, a third stood begrudgingly off to the side with a large gash along his forehead, most likely the cause of the previous cheer. The other two, who were of a formidable size, seemed unable to land a single blow on their leader. What Lexa lacked in strength, she made up in with speed and fluidity. As one man lifted his machete high to achieve a maximum amount of force, she quickly took advantage of his exposed body, slamming the butt of her weapon into his stomach before swiping her foot around to kick at his legs, causing him to loose balance and fall. She held her sword to his neck and pinned him with a stare.

However, while her attention was on him, the second man moved in, wrapping his thick arms around Lexa's neck and dragging her back. As he did, the man on the floor smacked the weapon out of her hand, earning him shouts of anger from the crowd of people watching, even as he backed away to sit next to the first man, an equally irritated look on his face.

Meanwhile, Lexa continued to attempt to free herself from the choke hold her third and last opponent had her in. As she strained to breathe, she slammed her elbow into her attacker's side, who, although wincing slightly with each hit, did not loosen his grip. Clarke watched with wide eyes as Lexa's tanned skinned face began to redden, her heart beating quicker with each moment passing. She wanted to yell at them to stop, to release her, but she knew that it would be seen as an offense to the Commander's strength should she intervene. So instead she watched anxiously as Lexa choked, her own throat refusing to let any oxygen through.

In movements that seemed continuously controlled, even while being deprived of air, Lexa spread her stance and smacked her head back into the man's face, a fountain of blood erupting from his nose. His grip momentarily loosened, Lexa grabbed onto his arm, swung around so it was extended to the side and she was standing behind it and forcibly pushed her palm into his elbow, as she kicked into the back of his knee, forcing him to the ground. Twisting his arm even further, she growled out a question, which when ignored, she underlined by putting more pressure into bending the man's joint in a way that should not be bent. Only when it looked as though the arm was about to snap did the man cry out and admit defeat.

A rugged cheer went up again throughout the crowd, and Clarke released the breath she had been holding. She watched as Lexa smacked her last opponent on the back with a curt nod, speaking in a low voice, as others moved forward to begin their own training. Clarke did not realize she had been staring at Lexa until the latter's eyes suddenly connected with hers. For a moment the Commander did not move, a split second of hesitation that even Clarke would not have noticed had she not picked up a light waver in the girl's eyes.

Leaving her people behind, Lexa made her way over to Clarke, her head carried high and her face as emotionless as always. She could see the sweat trickling down the Commander's face as she got closer, and involuntarily her eyes slid down to her neck, widening slightly at the angry red mark there, one that would no doubt lead to a large bruise.

"That looks painful." Clarke blurted out before she could stop herself, cursing herself as Lexa came to a stop in front of her, her eyebrow raising slightly at the comment.

"It is not."

Looking back up into her eyes, Clarke gave her a look. "Sure thing."

There was a pause in the conversation, though it was a stretch to call it that. As always, Lexa was not keeping up her part, instead fixing Clarke with a look she could not read. The wind picked up lightly, blowing past the Commander and enveloping Clarke in her scent, which she breathed in deeply despite herself. Salty sweat, dark wet earth, softly bitter smoke, and the slightest brush of sweet tree sap all flashed in her mind as she inhaled Lexa's scent.

Realizing what she was doing, she took half a step back, blood rushing to her face as she looked away. "How is your arm?"

"Well. I had it reset by Indra. It was good to use it in training today."

"You were quite impressive." Clarke said, breathing in shallow breaths as the wind continued to swirl around them.

"That was hardly my best." Lexa said, a slight smirk on her lips that Clarke caught out of the side of her eye. "It would do you well to train as well, Clarke of the Sky People. Should Bellamy indeed make it inside the mountain, we will need all the warriors we can get."

She looked up to meet the Commander's eyes as a jolt of guilt flashed through her. _Bellamy_. She had not thought of him at all since she had woken. She should visit Raven as soon as possible, yet she hesitated, not quite willing to leave just yet. The sun was just about to peak the horizon, she could see its golden rays reaching towards the sky.

"I have my gun." She responded coolly, not dropping her eyes from the piercing look she was receiving.

"Your gun can run out of bullets. A sword cannot, your hands cannot."

"I doubt I'll be able to get close enough to anyone else with a gun to use my fists." Clarke muttered.

"Not all of your enemies carry guns, Clarke." She responded, a flame igniting in her eyes before being smothered by the emotionless mask.

"You mean like Quint." It was not a question. She already knew there were others among the grounders who bore her no warm feelings.

This time Lexa looked away, her eyes squinting at the rising sun as her hand clenched around her sword's hilt. "Not all of my people realize your importance."

"And you think that by training I'll be able to change that? One of them may "accidentally" break my neck during a training session. No thanks." Clarke saw Lexa's jaw clench momentarily, as she turned her head to face her again, fixing her with a hard stare. "Besides, who would be willing to train me?"

Lexa did not respond, her face becoming even harder to read as the sun finally managed to protrude through the clouds and illuminated her from behind, casting her face in shadows. Clarke sighed, squinting slightly against the light. "Look, Lexa, I'll be fine. I need to go check up on Raven, see if Bellamy has contacted her."

She paused for a moment, waiting for a response, and, upon receiving none, turned and walked towards the mechanic's room, leaving Lexa standing on the slight hill, bathing in the sunlight. Clarke breathed in deeply, embracing the clear air, ignoring the light scent of sweat, smoke and earth that seemed to have attached itself to her.


	2. Chapter 2

_Update! YES. I just wanted to say a huge Thank You to everyone reading, fav-ing (?), and reviewing this story! You are all amazing and as promised I love your virtual selves. I have some ideas as to where this could go, but I don't want to do anything too drastic yet due to not knowing what's happening in the series. It's a shorter update, but I'll be sure to give you a longer one next. Preview: Lexa and Clarke are going to get sweaty together. As always, don't be afraid to review. Enjoy._

**_None of the characters are mine. They all belong to CW._**

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Clarke sat down heavily on a tree stump near the edge of the encampment, trying to escape all of the eyes that seemed to observe her every move. Rolling her soldiers, she tried to loosen the tension that had taken up permanent residence between her shoulder blades, a tension that only grew as the day progressed. Breathing in deeply, she tried to calm her racing mind.

That was all she was doing, every day. Trying. Trying to survive. Trying to live. Trying to be free. Trying not to break. And the thought that loomed on her mind everyday was what if she was trying and failing? What if all of this was for naught and would end in the destruction of everything she had tried so hard to build and preserve?

_Bellamy. _Where was he? Why had he not contacted them yet? Raven had looked so dejected as she sat slumped over the radio, her injured leg stretched out in front of her. Clarke had not even needed to ask the question, as the other girl looked up at her with eyes filled with anxiety, staring at her as though Clarke knew all the answers. She had offered few words of comfort, not knowing what could possibly relieve both of them from the mounting pressure on their shoulders.

The rest of the day had been filled with numerous other eyes. Her mother's, barely hidden fear and pain emanating from every pore of her body, looking at her and searching for a shred of the girl she had known. Octavia's eyes, staring at her from a battered face, glittering with rage and accusations. Clarke was the reason both her brother and her lover had headed straight into the belly of the beast, and there would be hell to pay if they did not return. Endless pairs of eyes staring at her, mercilessly slinging their emotions at her as though she were not already filled to the brink with her own.

She wanted to scream, to empty out the sludge of conflicting thoughts, doubts, and feelings from inside her. Instead she hid her face behind her hands, clenching her eyes shut and embracing the darkness. The sun was beginning to set behind her, though it still gently warmed her back, sounds from across the camp drifting along with the wind, the smell of the earth tingling in her nose. Earth and… Clarke snapped her head up.

Lexa stood a few feet in front of her, her face betraying nothing, her eyes fixed on Clarke's face. Not looking for answers, not accusing her, just seeing her. It made Clarke's breath catch in her throat and she struggled to form a coherent thought.

"Did you hear me approach?" The Commander asked before she could.

Clarke felt her face burn bright red at the question, smoke and sap still mixing deliciously in the air around her.

"What do you want, Lexa?" She asked instead.

There was a flicker of irritation and confusion in her expression. For a moment the two of them stared at each other, stubbornly refusing to continue with the conversation, before Lexa let out a small sigh and said: "I am here to train you."

"What?"

"You had a point earlier today. None of my warriors would willingly train with you or any of your people, nor do many of them have the time or the knowledge to train someone with such a lack of skill like yourself. This may indeed cause you injury, which would strain the alliance. So I will train you."

Clarke stared. In the back of her mind she recognized that Lexa had insulted her by plainly stating that she was weak and incapable of fighting, but this thought was being pushed aside by the fact that the Commander of the Grounders was offering to train her.

"Thank you for the offer, but I don't need to be trained. I can take care of myself."

"This is not an offer. You will train." Lexa said, her eyes steeling and an authoritative tone saturating her voice.

Clarke felt her temper flare and stood, taking a step forward to face the other girl head on. Who did she think she was, ordering her about? "You have no right to order me to do anything, Lexa."

"I have the right to do what is best for my people, and that includes your survival and the survival of our alliance. You could have died in the forest the other day, Clarke. You need to learn to protect yourself."

"I know how to protect myself!" She growled. She did not like how this girl treated her as though she were some vulnerable child.

"Prove it. Attack me."

"This is stupid. I don't have time for this!" Clarke muttered, making to push past Lexa and head towards anywhere in camp where this infuriating girl was not.

As she moved forward, the Commander's hand shot out to her neck, grasping it firmly and hooking her one leg behind Clarke's knee, shoving backwards and causing her to lose her balance and fall onto her behind, arms shooting out to break her fall. Before she could react any further, she felt the cold touch of metal kiss her throat. Lexa stood above her, eyes fierce, her sword stretched out towards Clarke's neck.

"Dead." She said quietly.

A shiver ran down her back at the word, at the look in the Commander's eyes, at being at the other girl's mercy, but she squished the feeling before it could erupt in her abdomen. Shoving the sword aside with her hand, she shot up again, her face inches from Lexa's.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Proof that you cannot protect yourself."

"I wasn't expecting you to attack me!"

"Most attacks do not start with a warning of the impending attack." Lexa said, and Clarke could almost swear that there was a smirk playing on her lips and a twinkle of enjoyment in her eye.

Grinding her teeth together, she clenched her fists, fingernails digging into her palms as she struggled to keep her cool. This girl was the most infuriating and stubborn creature Clarke had ever met.

Lexa raised one of her eyebrows. "Tomorrow morning, before the sun rises, meet me at the gate. Do not be late." With that, she turned around and walked off, leaving a fuming Clarke in her wake.


	3. Chapter 3

_Here we are! A longer chapter as promised. I think the next chapter will deal with whatever happened in 2x11, as I can actually watch it soon, but I can't say yet. I hope to get in some more sparring sessions between the two of them so they can get more.. physical with one another, but we'll have to wait and see. As always (I'm going to say this every time) reviews are cool. Tell me of your wishes and likes and dislikes. To do with Atlas. Or your life. Whatever you want. Enjoy!_

**_I own nothing. Characters belong to CW._**

_Rain Addict - I'm loving your reaction. Also.. who knows, the *closer* they get the more Clarke will be breathing it in. Lexa ain't no fool._

_SunSkip - Thanks for pointing out the mistake :)_

_I Forget - I didn't think of that! But I tried to add it in this chapter. I still think Lexa would view whatever training Clarke may have previously had as inferior. But thanks for informing me! Also yes. That tension, I'm so looking forward to writing about its release._

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Clarke did not sleep at all that night. Try as she might, her thoughts gave her no rest. She thought of Bellamy and Lincoln, of the war that was waiting to be fought, but mostly her mind circled around Lexa. Lexa with her stupid sword and stupid smirk and stupid face and stupid eyes. Eyes that could be grey and steely, or green like the forest, or light blue like the sky. Eyes that challenged Clarke, but never gave anything away.

As the time approached at when Lexa had declared they were to meet, Clarke battled herself. She did not like the idea of the Commander bossing her around, or giving any credit to her belief that Clarke could not take care of herself; she had some basic training! But at the same time, Clarke knew she sorely lacked the skills Lexa was offering. She had hardly had any time to brush up on her combat skills recently, and she was unsure if she would be able to recall much of what Bellamy and her father had taught her in an actual battle. And what else was there to do, but stare at the ceiling and wait for the sun to rise? Another day of waiting, the thought was enough to drive her mad.

So it was with grumbling and a sour expression that she got out of bed and trudged to the gate, where Lexa already stood waiting, two horses in tow. Clarke almost dared her to smirk with the glare she was giving her, but to the Grounder's credit, her mask was firmly in place and she quietly handed Clarke one of the horses.

"Where are we going? Why can't we just train here?" Clarke grumbled as she awkwardly climbed onto her horse, her body still warming up from the night.

Lexa had already climbed onto her horse, head held high, back straight, surveying the land beyond the slowly opening gate. "I thought it unwise to challenge our people's fragile trust in one another with the sight of you attempting to harm me."

"What about the Mountain Men?"

Lexa turned to face her, her green eyes pale in the growing morning light. "They will not hurt you, Clarke."

Before Clarke could answer, Lexa prodded her horse forward, leading them out of the enclosed settlement, back into the wild forest. She hesitated for a moment before following, an irritating flutter slowly subsiding in her chest as she caught up with the Commander.

The ride was a quiet one. It had been so long since the last time Clarke had been beyond the fence, away from all of the people counting on her knowing what to do. Even with the threat of an attack, be it by Mountain Men or a violent beast of the forest, Clarke felt her shoulders fall with each step her horse took away from the camp.

She closed her eyes, feeling the wind blow against her face and play with her hair. Smiling ever so slightly, she breathed in the world. Breathed in the trees and the dust, breathed in the animals that could run free between the trunks, breathed in the life she found there. She even breathed in Lexa, allowing herself to revel in the smell. She let everything fill her up, and then she let it go, and with it she pushed away the thoughts that tormented her, just for a moment letting herself be nothing but a girl named Clarke.

"You have not left the camp in a while."

Clarke opened her eyes slowly, almost lazily turning to look at Lexa, who met her gaze for a split second before turning to survey the passing trees. It had not been a question, did not require any further discussion, but a thought entered her mind.

"Is that why you wanted to train outside of camp?" She teased, her smile growing slightly. "Because I haven't been getting enough fresh air?"

Lexa looked at her and frowned. "I did not think your people would appreciate the sight of you on the ground beneath me." As a scowl replaced Clarke's smile, a smirk took over in the place of the Grounder's frown.

"You are way too confident. It's almost arrogant."

"I simply speak the truth. You are not much of a match." Lexa responded with a shrug.

"We'll see about that." Clarke muttered under her breath, noticing a small clearing they were heading towards.

When they reached it, Lexa quickly dismounted, tying her horse's reins onto a nearby branch. Clarke did likewise as the Commander untied one of the bags from the horses saddle and walked to the center of the clearing. She followed her wearily, expecting another unprovoked attack. However, the other girl dropped the bag to the ground and turned to face her.

"Are you ready?"

"What?"

Lexa shoved her, causing her to fall back onto her butt. Yet again.

"You need to have your feet firmly placed at all times. Be centered. Up!"

Instant regret at her choice to come here settled firmly in the pit of her stomach as she got up again, her face red with embarrassment and anger. Standing with her feet somewhat wider than her hips and sinking down slightly into her knees, she lifted her fists and pinned Lexa with a stare.

With a raised eyebrow, she mimicked her stance, giving Clarke a quick nod. "Better, much better. Now lift your arms to defend my attacks."

The Commander's fists shot out, trying to land a hit on her opponents face. Clarke braced her arms and focused on blocking the quick movements, slowly backing up as Lexa pressed forward. She had the distinct feeling the Grounder was not trying her hardest, but that did not mean that she was not building up a sweat already.

Suddenly, Lexa swung her leg out, knocking Clarke's own legs out from beneath her. She fell backwards, not thinking quickly enough to break her fall, so that her back hit the ground with full force, knocking the air out of her.

She stared up at the sky, now beginning to glow orange, as she coughed oxygen back into her lungs. Lexa appeared over her, her eyebrows pulled together.

"You focus too much on one thing and forget the other. Your stance is important. Never forget to remain grounded. Do not back up. Hold your ground." Almost hesitantly, she stuck her hand out.

Clarke ignored it, rolling onto her side and pushing herself up. She pushed past Lexa, trying desperately to keep her temper in check as she turned to face her in the middle of the field again. Centering herself, she felt the earth beneath her feet, and raised her fists again. She would manage to hit the Commander, even if she herself was knocked over every time.

Again and again they sparred, every time ending with Lexa standing above Clarke gasping on the ground, holding a new injury that was bound to become a bruise throughout the day. Sweat trickled down her neck, and her breathing became continuously more labored as the sun began to peak on the horizon, until finally her building anger broke.

As she was again flipped onto the ground by Lexa, who had at least also built up a bit of perspiration, she managed to snag onto the front of the woman's shirt, tearing her down with her, quickly using her surprise to roll over so that she was straddling the Commander's hips. Grabbing onto the other girl's sore neck and raising her fist, she almost brought it down to meet her cheek before glancing up into her eyes and freezing.

The Commander's mask had slipped; her eyes were wide, a mixture of grey, green, and pale blue, shining in surprise and… delight? Clarke stared, mesmerized, frozen in her position as she hovered over Lexa. She had never seen the girl this open before, had never been this close. Or had this much physical contact she realized with a jolt, blood rushing to her face as her body tingled profusely in all the places she was touching Lexa.

Scrambling backwards, she got off of her, but her knees had become weak, so she stumbled back to the ground, sitting off to the side of Lexa. She could still feel her face burning, yet could not drop her eyes from the other girl's face, who unabashedly locked gazes with her, sitting up to look at her directly.

The world began to sing as the sun rose to fully greet it. Birds chirped and the grass and trees rustled around their bodies as the wind playfully dashed through them. All the while in the midst of it all, Clarke and Lexa looked at each other silently.

"We should probably head back." Clarke managed to force out, finally dropping her eyes to the ground. "People will be wondering where we are."

"We still have time." Lexa said quietly.

Clarke did not respond, but looked up as Lexa stood, moving towards the bag she had placed in the clearing earlier. Picking it up, she brought it back to where Clarke sat, and joined her, keeping about an arm's length of distance between them. Reaching inside, she pulled out two apples and some dry cured meat, offering some of it to Clarke. Realizing how hungry the training session had made her, she accepted one of the apples and some of the meat with a small smile.

"You did well. You show great promise."

Clarke snorted. "All the bruises I'm getting say otherwise."

A hint of a smile played on Lexa's lips. "You cannot expect to win so easily. My people train their children from the time they can walk. I have many years of advantage. When I first began fighting, I was worse than you."

"You as a child… I can't imagine it. I thought you just sprung up out of the ground fully formed in battle gear. Kind of like Athena."

"Who is Athena? How was she not birthed?" Lexa questioned, a perplexed look on her face as she bit into some of the meat she had brought along.

Clarke chuckled at her serious expression.

"Why do you laugh?" The Grounder muttered defensively, pinning her with a hard stare.

"The birth of Athena is one of the myths of Ancient Greece, Lexa."

"Ancient Greece?"

"A country that used to exist before the war. Many hundreds of years ago. They were considered to be the cradle of civilization by many." Clarke explained patiently, watching as Lexa soaked in her words.

"That civilization is long gone."

"Yes." Clarke said with a sigh, a moment of grief passing through her for the world that had passed. "But their stories remain. Stories of heroes and love and life. Passion and grief. Part of their civilization remains."

"And how does this story of Athena go?" Lexa asked, meeting Clarke's eyes with curiosity, for once looking closer to her young age.

"Zeus was the main God according to the Greeks, and he ruled over all other Gods. His domain was the sky, and he would often shift forms into an eagle to roam over the land of mortals. He was also a huge womanizer who couldn't keep in in his pants for more than a week."

Seeing the confused look pass over Lexa's face, Clarke smiled and explained: "He slept with a lot of women, even though he was technically married. Anyway, at some point, Metis caught his fancy. She was known for her wisdom and deep thought, and after a while of romantic pursuit, Metis succumbed to Zeus and they slept together. But Zeus became fearful, having heard a prophecy that should Metis bear a second child, he would be strong enough to overthrow Zeus. As a result, he found Metis again, and after putting her at ease, ate her and her unborn child whole. While this was the death of Metis, it was also the beginning of Zeus' wisdom. But after a while, Zeus developed an unbearable headache, his cries of pain echoing across the sky. The other Gods upon hearing this rushed to help him, and did so by splitting his skull open with a wedge, from where Athena came forth, fully grown and clothed in armor. She became the Goddess of intelligence, wisdom, and strategy."

Lexa was silent for a moment, leaning back on her arms in the grass and looking at her feet, her eyebrows pulled together as she mulled over what Clarke had said. Clarke let her think, finishing up her breakfast, and relaxing in the rising sun.

"Athena was a Goddess of Ancient Greece?"

Clarke nodded, watching the Commander's eyes spark mischievously.

Lexa looked over at Clarke and smirked. "You are comparing me to a Goddess?"

Rolling her eyes and blushing slightly, she retorted: "Out of that entire tale, all you gather is that I compared you to a Goddess? Your ego is ridiculous! I only said as much because I couldn't imagine you as a child, and Athena had no childhood."

The Commander paused, the smirk disappearing from her face. Shrugging, she looked up at the sky and let a small sigh escape her lips. "We need to return to camp. The day is upon us."

Standing, she gathered up her bag, throwing it over her shoulder, before looking back down at Clarke, who had remained seated in the sunshine, looking up at her with a frown. She did not understand the sudden change in her expression. But she saw the hesitation in the Commander's eyes before she stretched out her hand towards Clarke, again offering to help her off the ground.

For a moment she did not react, looking at the outstretched hand, but as she saw it start to fall back in rejection, she stretched out her own and grasped it. The rough skin brushing against her soft palm another reminder of just how long Lexa had been a warrior. She locked eyes with the other girl as she pulled her off the ground, electricity running through her veins and sending her heart frantically beating.

When she straightened, they dropped their hands together, the contact lasting just longer than necessary. As their fingers parted from another, Lexa broke their eye contact and moved off towards where their horses stood grazing.

"Come, we must return. Before your people think I have killed you."

"Why would it be you killing me?" Clarke asked indignantly, shaking off her spastic nerves as she followed.

Lexa gave her a look over her shoulder as she tied the bag back onto the horse's saddle. "You must have hit your head harder than I thought on one of your _many _falls to be delusional enough to think that if it came down to a battle of life or death between us, you would win."

"Hey!" Clarke growled as she climbed onto her horse. "Who was on top at the end?"

"You froze." Lexa said pointedly.

"Well, what was I supposed to do? Punch you?"

"Yes. Never hesitate in battle, Clarke. Hesitation can decide between life and death."

"Well next time I'll hit you then!"

Lexa smirked. "I'd like to see you try."

She did not give Clarke time to respond, kicking her horse into a run, flying through the trees. Swearing, Clarke did likewise, trying to catch up with the Commander whose chestnut hair swirled in the wind behind her. Feeling the wind against her face exhilarated her, and she egged her own horse on, drawing up behind the Grounder, slowly beginning to draw ahead.

Looking over at the girl riding wildly beside her, she saw the look of freedom that lit up her face, and felt joy erupt from her stomach, rise up and pour out of her mouth in breathless laughter as they raced back towards the camp. There they might be confined in more ways than one, but right in that moment, they were free.


	4. Chapter 4

_This chapter follows along the lines of what happens in 2x11. I don't really like rewriting/rereading things that have already happened in the show, so I tried to limit the amount of scenes I rewrote from the episode. I hope the time line is clear, if not feel, free to tell me so I can try to fix it. Also, there have been minor changes here in comparison to what happens in the series, for example that Lexa does not live in another village. I hope it works out with the continued series. As always, be sure to review if you have anything to say about this! And thanks to everyone who already has and to everyone is reading this! Enjoy!_

_(Also can we just talk about how badass Clarke looked with the posse of Grounders following her, and with that great song in the background. Lawd, is it hot in here or is that just me?)_

**_I own nothing. All characters belong to CW._**

_Sunskip: I agree. She has a very special way of caring. I hope you like the softer version of her though too! Also, yes, depending on any openings I see, I will definitely be exploring Lexa's past. (Although I never thought about your siblings question! Thanks for the idea!)_

_valerie: I love love love that you love love love this._

* * *

Clarke found herself wistfully remembering the rush of freedom she had experienced earlier that morning as she yet again sat atop a horse. This time however she was surrounded by others: Her mother and a group of grounders.

When she and Lexa had neared the camp after their short lived bout of freedom, both of them had simultaneously slowed their horses. The laughter that had been bubbling uncontrollably from their lips slowly subsided, and Clarke had found her heart aching with the loss of the Commander's laugh. She had never heard it before, and true, with the wind rushing in her ears and the sound of hooves digging into the soft earth, it had been hard to hear it distinctly. Yet she had caught a wisp of it at the edge of her mind. It had tinkered there, strong but light, swirling in and around her own laugh.

As the gate had come into view, Clarke said breathlessly: "That was fun."

Lexa had nodded silently, her eyes pinned on the camp, the sounds from which slowly invaded their bubble of privacy. Clarke watched with dismay as she saw the Commander's mask, which had previously been non-existent, slowly cover up her companion's elegant face. Sighing, she had looked back at the gate to the settlement, which had swung open on their arrival, and screeched shut once they entered, enclosing them yet again within its confines.

Both of them had dismounted, a Grounder relieving them of their horses as Indra and another man Clarke had seen walking around camp stepped up to discuss something in Trigedasleng. Standing for a moment to listen, she had found herself again entranced by the tongue, which was guttural and wild yet elegant in its own right. Similar to the leader of the Woods Clan. But coming to the realization that she had been hovering, she turned around and had begun walking in the other direction, intent upon visiting Raven to gather any updates.

"Clarke!" The shout had sent a jolt down her spine and she turned slightly to look at the Commander, who had walked a few steps in her direction. Indra had still stood behind her, watching the discourse with mistrustful eyes, while the other man was walking off.

"Tomorrow. Same time at the gate." Lexa had continued.

Clarke did not know if it had been a question, but she had believed to hear a slight raise in pitch at the last word. She had nodded her consent, and Lexa's lips had perked just a bit, before she had turned and walked away with Indra.

Later in the morning, her mother had approached her as she had silently been sitting next to Raven, staring helplessly at the radio. Clarke had needed to try very hard not to role her eyes at the expression her mother carried so obviously on her face. At times she thought Lexa was better off with her cold mask than her mother with her blatant concern and worry; if the leader was anxious, what were the people to think?

Her mother's request to run a perimeter check had been met with incredulous eyes. Grounders patrolled the forest surrounding the camp, and Sky guards did rounds by the fence. It was an unnecessary procedure and Clarke had been about to shoot it down when her mother had told her that sitting around was not helping anyone. Biting her tongue, Clarke had considered, and finally agreed, reasoning that she should get whatever it was her mother actually wanted to discuss with her out of the way.

As the two of them had been about to leave, they had met Lexa, walking with the man she had been talking to earlier.

"Where are the two of you going?" She had asked without preamble, noticing the two horses that trailed behind them.

"To do a perimeter check." Abby had answered, although the Commander had been addressing Clarke.

"Alone?"

"Yes. I'm very capable of taking care of my daughter and myself."

Lexa had stared at her mother, then turning her head slightly had gruffly said something to the large, bearded man standing next to her. He, in turn, had nodded and walked away. Facing us again, the Commander had said in an authoritative voice: "He will accompany you will a small group of grounders. I will not have the alliance die with you." She had directed the last part at Clarke.

So that was how Clarke had ended up watching her mother impatiently as she had dismounted and gotten out her water, with a posse of guards eyeing both her and their surroundings. She could feel their eyes boring into her back as her mother's bored into her own, trying to chip away the mask she had learnt to keep in place.

Abby had been attempting to reassert herself as a leader over her daughter, insisting that she knew what was best for the both of them. Clarke had nodded, her jaw clenching, just to get her mother to be quiet and get off of her case, unwilling to battle out their different opinions when it would mean a prolonged absence from the radio. Everything rode on Bellamy. He could not let her down.

The gun shot that rang out made all of her hairs stand on end. She saw the man Lexa had been talking to fall to the ground, clutching his chest, blood coloring his hand red.

"Mountain Men." She had growled. Without thinking of anything else, she rode off to find whoever had thought it wise to attack her people.

* * *

After she had left her mother in the medical ward with the corpse of the grounder and the severely burned Mountain Man, she had at first set out to find Octavia and Raven at the radio station. However, her feet set her on a different track, leading her towards a different part of the camp as she mulled over what she had learned today and what it meant for the future.

When she looked up, she found herself staring at the chest of a large guard stationed outside of Lexa's tent. Two others stood to either side, all of them with hands on their weapons, tense and on high alert, glowering at her as though she were the enemy. She hesitated for a moment, wondering why she was standing there.

"I want to see the Commander." She said at length, staring unflinchingly into the bearded man's eyes.

For a moment he did not move, and Clarke lifted her chin, about to challenge his disobedience, until he swiftly turned around and ducked in through the tent flap, the other two guards sidestepping to continue barring her from entering. She tried not to let her irritation and impatience show. Did they not realize that both she and their Commander were being targeted? That she was the one working so hard to keep this alliance alive? How dare they think of her as a threat to Lexa's life!

After a moment, the guard reappeared again, nodding at the two others and holding the flap open for her, his eyes still tracking her every move as she passed him. She did her best not to tense up under his scrutiny.

The tent was dimly lit, a mix of hides and other materials making up the walls, filling the space with the heavy smell of leather and smoke. A table with various maps spread out on it sat in the center, a few strides from the alleviated throne. Both Lexa and Indra stood by the table, their faces fierce and hard as they surveyed the lands.

The Commander looked up and locked eyes with Clarke, whose sharp intake of breath could easily be heard in the silent tense space of the tent. Lexa's eyes were flames and blood, she had never seen her look so enraged.

"Should you not be tending to the well-being of the murderer?" Indra spat, hardly looking up at her.

"He is being looked after. As soon as he wakes up, we'll be able to know more about Mount Weather." She answered her own face hardening as her eyes flicked to the Commander's second and back. "I wanted to come see if…"

Clarke halted, unsure if she should continue. What she even wanted to say. Her heart beat had picked up slightly, and she felt a slight burn in her face and chest that confused her. Lexa continued to stare at her with eyes that swirled with barely contained fire, her blank face a sharp juxtaposition to the amount of emotion playing behind the grey-blue eyes.

"Indra. Leave us. Go see to it that Arrox gets a burial deserving of a warrior." The Commander spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes still never leaving those of Clarke, who found herself unable to break away from the piercing gaze.

Looking up, Indra glanced between the two of them, her face darkening as she took in Lexa's stance, but without further hesitation, she bowed her head and left the tent. The silence that settled in as the tent's flap fell into place was stifling, Clarke could feel it slithering around her chest, constricting her lungs and making it hard to breathe. She became lightheaded, swaying slightly and grasping at the edge of the table to steady herself.

Her mother's words from the ward sliced through her skull. _They tried to kill you today. _Squeezing her eyes shut she tried to breathe, tried to regain control over her body and mind, but they seemed to be running havoc. Octavia, with eyes of fire, not controlled like the Commander's but burning wildly, burning her to the core, showing her the pictures, the red circles surrounding her face and Lexa's. Lexa. They were trying to kill Lexa.

A stunted gasp escaped her as pain shot through her chest and she doubled over slightly, the world spinning madly in the darkness behind her eyes. Her disorientation grew, and she felt her knees begin to give out, her chest heaving but no oxygen managing to enter her body. As she was about to collapse, she felt movement in the air around her, strong arms wrapping themselves around her waist and straightening her, as a firm warm body pressed itself flush against her back.

"Clarke." Her name was breathed out next to her ear, the softest whisper, but her mind latched onto it, desperately searching for an anchor. The arms around her waist tightened their hold, and Clarke felt her own arms cover them, her hands clutching at them as she leaned back further into the body behind her.

"Clarke. Come back to me." Lexa's voice was soft, yet cut through the chaos in her head like the sharpest of knives. Her eyes still closed, Clarke turned her head slightly towards the voice, and breathed in the scent that surrounded her greedily, letting its earthly tones ground her again. She felt the heart hammering against her back and began to match her breathing to its slow steady beat. "You're safe."

With a final sigh, the storm that had been raging inside of her body subsided, and Clarke opened her eyes. She did not make to move away from Lexa's embrace quite yet, still feeling her core shake with the aftershock of her emotions.

"What about you?" She whispered. She did not wish to break the hazy spell she found herself in, did not want reality to crash through to her and force her to think of what was currently happening.

"What do you mean?" Lexa responded, her voice equally soft. Clarke felt her lean her head forward and rest her chin on her shoulder. She could see her face in her periphery, feel the air running through the sliver that divided her cheek from the Commander's own. A sliver that felt like a chasm yet set her flesh on fire with want.

"Are you safe? The mountain men are targeting both of us.." Clarke let the sentence trail off. She felt as though the question she had asked and the explanation she had offered were inadequate, so instead she simply let out a soft sigh, waiting to see if Lexa would respond while focusing on her strong heartbeat.

The Commander had the audacity to chuckle lightly. "I have guards who watch me from dusk till dawn and dawn till dusk, I have been trained in combat since I was capable of unsteady steps. I can take care of myself. Besides, did you not say I was a Goddess?" She added with a slight nudge to Clarke's face. "You need not worry about me."

"But I do…" It had slipped out before she had been able to stop herself and she froze in Lexa's arms. She felt the Commander's face lift off of her shoulder and her eyes pierce the side of her head, but Clarke refused to meet them. The illusion was cracking, reality forcing its way back in, and she felt herself rising from the warm haze she had previously willingly submersed herself in.

Suddenly, the flap to the tent opened and she quickly jumped away from Lexa's warmth, turning to face the intruder while desperately attempting to rearrange her face into a mask she knew she had been sorely lacking only seconds before. It was one of the Sky people's guards, who glanced nervously at the Commander and thankfully had not seemed to have noticed their previous stance, while the Grounder guard was so focused on the gun the second man carried that Clarke doubted he had noticed much else either.

"Clarke. The Chancellor asks for you. The prisoner has woken."

Nodding stiffly, Clarke walked out, the guards following her, without giving Lexa another look.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello again! Update time! Big things are happening in the series, so as always I'm a bit nervous to do anything too drastic in my own story, but I'm creating context and themes for later on. Be patient, it's coming. The future of Clarke and Lexa is taking form within my mind. As always, Thank you to everyone taking the time to read this, and to everyone leaving comments! You are all so very lovely, and I read every one of them! Enjoy!_

**_None of the characters are mine. All characters belong to CW._**

_RainAddict: Best compliment. If you can hook me up with that job, I promise you the show would get so much gayer, it would be beautiful :D_

_SunSkip: I'm glad you think it's all in character. Of course! we can't have them be alone together for too long, who knows how long they can restrain themselves ;) but the scenes were they aren't interrupted are coming.. A few are bouncing around in my head, waiting to get out._

_Miller77: Thanks! I'm thinking the next episode (remember I'm one behind) will give me a lot of grub to work with, and add to the tension between them._

* * *

Clarke could not tell what was worse: Sleeping and being defenseless against the imagined horrors of her subconscious mind, or restlessly lying in bed and being defenseless against the imagined scenarios and real horrors of her conscious mind. All she knew is that she desperately needed sleep. Maybe if she irritated Indra enough, the woman would knock her out. Clarke would get her rest, and Indra would maybe stop glaring at her every time she so much as breathed.

Running a hand through her hair, she let out a low groan. Why did everything have to be so difficult? In response, her mind wandered back to when she had entered the Commander's tent, to the safety she had felt in being surrounded by Lexa's warmth, and how her body had relaxed, even though seconds before panic had been coursing through her system. The way her name had sounded spoken next to her ear in Lexa's soft voice, and the weight of the other girls head on her shoulder, and Clarke's mouth blabbing '_But I do…' _without her permission.

She let out another groan and turned onto her side, worrying at her lip. What a stupid thing to say, absolutely moronic. What had she been thinking? Oh, but that was the problem, she had not been. She had been too caught up in the Commander's scent and strong arms and pounding heart, and now her mind was finally catching up with the situation.

Lexa was the Commander of the Woods Clan. She was absolutely necessary for the alliance and the Sky People's continued survival. She was also stubborn, fierce, and an emotionless warrior. Lexa herself had said to Clarke in no uncertain terms that love - not that there was any love between them but she assumed that any type of affection was included in that statement - was weakness. Clarke could not allow herself to have panic attacks or to be held, by anyone, but most specifically by Lexa.

But then why had the other girl even comforted her in the first place? Why not back off as soon as Clarke's breathing had steadied itself? Why rest her chin on her shoulder? Clarke had purposefully avoided the Commander for the rest of the day after their little encounter, even though she had no doubt Indra and the other Grounders were reporting her movements back to their Commander. She did not know what she should say, or what the other girl would say, and honestly with everything else there was to think about, she did not need that on her plate as well.

Now it was the morning however, and she was to meet the Grounder at the gates. At least, that's what she had said she would do. Currently though, she did not know if she wanted to keep her word. As she admitted this to herself, the image of Lexa waiting at the gates by herself flashed before her mind's eye, and a pang of guilt seared through her. If anything, she owed it to the Commander to show up, after all, she had been the one to save Clarke from her own mind, even if she did not know why. With a sigh, she lifted herself from her bed and prepared to face the world, along with Lexa's piercing eyes.

* * *

Fog lay heavy over the ground, and its chilly fingers brushed across her exposed skin, leaching at her warmth. The gray seemed to swallow sounds, only allowing them to reach her ears when they had been distorted and their point of origin could no longer be located. Others from the camp who had decided to brave the chilly fog no longer were individuals, but shadows silently creeping across the hard ground. It seemed as though the world were still asleep, covering itself in a blanket and refusing to wake and face the day. Clarke envied it.

As she neared the gate, a scraping noise battled its way through the thick air. She frowned, trying to recognize the sound and pinpoint the object creating it. It was high-pitched, drawn out, and repetitive; it could almost be considered lulling if it were not so disconcerting to not be able to see where it was coming from.

Through the gray, she managed to make out a small shape close to the ground, from where she was almost certain the noise originated from. Drawing closer, she accidentally stepped on a twig, the sound breaking the sleepy silence enveloping the world. The form in front of her stilled, then unfolded itself, standing and stepping forward, the fog clearing to reveal the Commander. In her one hand, she held her sword, while in the other she twirled a sharpening stone.

"I did not know if you would come." She said, her voice cutting through the slumbering world.

Clarke was unsure what to say, so she simply shrugged. She glanced behind Lexa, searching for the shapes of horses in the mist behind her. Finding none, she looked back at the girl standing in front of her questioningly. "No horses?"

"I do not think it safe to leave camp alone anymore. Not with the Mountain Men targeting both of us."

"Ah." She had not even considered that. Bouncing on the balls of her feet and rubbing her arms to ward off the cold, she continued: "So… Are we not going to train anymore?"

"I believe your attempted assassination proves that it is of even greater importance than I first thought that you know how to protect yourself and fight."

"Okay." Clarke answered, crossing her arms and glancing around Lexa. In fact, she was hardly meeting the other girl's eye, instead finding interest in the twirling gray fog that surrounded them. "So…"

"Follow me." The Commander muttered, earning her a surprised look from Clarke as the other girl turned on the heel of her foot and marched off into the fog, which greedily swallowed her whole.

Quickly, Clarke made off after her, trailing Lexa's shadow as she maneuvered her way through the quiet camp. As she followed the Commander, Clarke frowned, wondering what was on the other girl's mind, and where she was leading her. Again, she wondered if she should bring up her panic attack, or at least thank Lexa for her support; yet she was unsure how the Grounder would react, she was still so unaccustomed to all of their ways.

Before them in the fog, a structure loomed tall, which Clarke soon recognized as the Commander's quarters. It looked like a slumbering beast, half hidden by the thick gray surrounding it, and she felt a bit of apprehension settle in her stomach. She did not know why Lexa had brought her here, but she did not know if she could handle being alone in that space with her again, so soon after the last event that had taken place inside of its hide walls.

The other girl did not ask for her opinion, however, and after pausing to say something the Grounders who stood guard, she entered without looking back. The two large shapes standing on either side of the entrance flap did not look at her, instead she could see them scanning the area surrounding the tent. For a moment, she wondered if the Grounders had the ability to see through the thick sheet that lay over the world, but then she shook her head, shaking off such unfounded ghost tales.

Taking a deep breath, she moved forward, following the Commander into her tent, which was surprisingly warm in comparison to the outside word. Numerous candles lit up the interior, and the table, which had previously stood in the center, had been shoved to the side of the illuminated space. Lexa herself stood by the stairs leading up to her throne, she had removed a layer of clothing, baring a flimsy tank top covering a more fitting one.

Clarke paused to take in the muscles that moved beneath the surface of her skin; skin that was tanned from years of exposure to the sun. She saw the tattoo covering Lexa's right biceps, an intricate design, marking her as a Grounder. As the other girl rolled her shoulders, Clarke realized with a furrowed brow that the light crisscross pattern glinting in the candles' flames on Lexa's shoulder blades were scars. Layers of them.

She did not realize that she had been staring, frozen in her spot just beyond the entrance flap until Lexa turned to face her. Blushing, Clarke dropped her eyes to the packed earth by her feet, not knowing where to look or what to do.

"Why do you redden?" Lexa questioned.

Clarke glanced up, and was rewarded with nothing but the Commander's cool mask. "Your scars…" She started hesitantly, not seeing the point in lying, and knowing the other girl would expect an answer.

As she watched the effect her words had, she saw a miniscule flinch in Lexa's hard face, and saw her jaw muscle protrude as her jaw clenched. Straightening herself and raising her chin, she finished for Clarke: "…are none of your concern."

Nodding slightly, Clarke noticed for the first time that Lexa held two daggers. She blinked, the apprehension she had felt outside the tent coming back full force.

Lexa noted her look and moved further into the center of the room. "Take off your coat."

"What? Why?" Clarke asked, not moving from her spot by the entrance.

"Because you need the freedom to move. Your coat restricts your movement. It would be a pity if you were cut just to remain fashionable." She answered, twirling one of the daggers in her hand, a glint igniting in her green eyes.

"We're fighting with daggers?"

"Yes."

"I don't know how to fight with daggers though!"

"Then you will learn. That is the point of training."

Clarke could hear that Lexa was becoming impatient, so she hesitantly, going against her gut which was telling her to run before she was stabbed, moved forward towards the Grounder, who watched her every move. She shouldered off her jacket, her skin prickling although the tent was not cold, and balled it up, throwing it onto the steps behind Lexa.

The other girl lifted her hand, and flipping the knife around in the air, offered Clarke the hilt, who gingerly took it. A gun she knew how to handle, and using her fists came somewhat naturally, but a dagger was an entirely different matter.

"This is a bad idea." She said, lifting her eyes.

"Why?"

"Because we could seriously injure each other. Scratch that, you know how to use a dagger, you know how to control it and your movements – I don't! I could seriously hurt you!"

"Again, you overestimate your capabilities and underestimate mine. Your blade will not touch my skin, I assure you of it."

"Why can't we just spar again?"

Lexa's eyes narrowed, and Clarke watched as a flame erupted within them. "Do you think this is a game, Clarke?"

"What?" She asked, confused.

"Someone tried to kill you. You could be dead now. The final battle for our survival and freedom is nearing with each passing moment, and with each moment you are in even greater danger!" Clarke remembered the blazing fury she had seen in Lexa's eyes as she had last walked into this tent. It was now back in full force. "You need to know how to protect yourself! Luck will not protect you, nor will our scouts always spot those trying to harm you, nor will I always be there to help you. You _cannot _die, Clarke. I will not allow it."

Silence settled back over them as Lexa finished her rant, her nostrils flaring as she obviously struggled to control her breathing and regain her composure. Clarke watched as she reigned in the flames that played on the surface of her eyes, as the candles around them flickered and danced with the shadows. As the tension in the Commander's posture subsided, Clarke opened her mouth to speak, but found she was yet again at a loss of what to say. She had never seen Lexa so close to losing control, or be so open about what she was thinking.

Her chest tingled with the implications of what the other girl was saying, how fiercely protective she had looked as she had spoken. But before the feeling could spread, she rationalized what Lexa was saying. Of course she could not allow Clarke to die. The two of them were what kept this alliance alive and well, should either one of them perish, the Sky People and the Woods Clan would devolve into chaos - and the Mountain Men would win. The Commander was protective of her people, not of Clarke.

With a small nod, she renewed her grasp on the dagger's hilt, tightening it, and took up her fighting stance. Lexa noticed the movement, and returned her curt nod, before mimicking the action with her own stance. Her eyes still burned, but the fury had been tucked deep within her.

"The dagger is an extension of your arm. Do not think of it as a separate object. Use what I taught you during our last session. Now, attack me, and do not hold back."

For a split second, Clarke hesitated, still worried she might accidentally hurt Lexa. Her own words echoed in her mind. _But I do... _In response, the Commander's voice spoke in her mind: _Love is weakness. _She could not allow herself weakness, she could not allow herself to hesitate. Hardening her expression, she moved forward towards Lexa, dagger in hand, and ready to fight.


	6. Chapter 6

_I finally caught up with the show! So I'm trying to catch my writing up to where the show is at. Also diverging to a greater extent, because let's be honest, Lexa and Clarke are life and the show needs more of it. Also NOTE THE CHANGE IN RATING. I'll probably combine 2x13 and 2x14 in my next chapter. As always, reviews are always greatly appreciated, and thanks for taking the time to read and comment and like. Enjoy!_

**_All characters belong to CW. I own nothing._**

_Firefly: Thanks! I like your profile pic_

_Sunskip: Sooo.. this chapter happened. It just seemed right. There still not t_alking _about what's happening, but maybe not as much denial. Tell me what you think!_

_Britsip: I'm glad this made you so happy_

_RaidAddict: Oh I get it ;) this was even more satisfying to write, at least part of it_

* * *

Sweat trickled down her temple, the beads slowly making their way down past her ear, carving along the line of her neck until they hit the cool blade currently pressed against it. Clarke could not move; she was immobilized by the pressure against her artery, by Lexa standing yet again flush against her back.

As the Commander had predicted, her own dagger, which now lay abandoned on the ground, had never grazed her tan skin. Instead she had always managed to deflect Clarke's attacks, sometimes at the last second, when her eyes had widened in fear that she was going to stab the other girl. Still, Clarke took some small comfort in the fact that she had not given up, and the Grounder was now breathing heavily in her ear, her own skin coated in a sweat.

Clarke was waiting to be released from her position, but the Commander seemed to be frozen, the only movement the heavy rise and fall of her chest. She felt her body shake subtly from exhaustion, and her muscles ache from standing still for such a long period of time.

"Lexa?" She managed to say against the blade.

"Elbow me."

Clarke frowned. Every time previously when Lexa had bested her, she had simply repositioned herself in the middle of the room and waited for Clarke to attack her again. However, she needed to prove that she was strong, and could take care of herself.

Steeling herself, she brought her elbow back hard against the Commander's side. She heard her grunt and felt the blade loosen its position on her neck as Lexa stumbled backwards slightly. Using the moment, Clarke grabbed onto Lexa's arm, and using a movement she had seen many times before, awkwardly twisted her around, tripping her and bringing her to the floor with a heavy thud that knocked the air out of her lungs.

Grabbing onto the hilt of Lexa's dagger, she quickly lowered herself over the Commander, straddling her hips and grabbing onto her right wrist to pin it to the ground as she laid the dagger, which had previously been digging into her neck, against Lexa's own. Her heart beat pounding wildly in her chest, Clarke looked up to meet those eyes that haunted her thoughts and dreams, expecting them to be shining as they had that day in the field.

Instead, they had a faraway look in them, laced with great sadness. Clarke increased the distance between their faces, her eyebrows drawing together. She was about to ask Lexa what was wrong when she again felt the sharp kiss of steel against her throat.

"Don't simply focus on what is in front of you, Clarke. Know your surroundings, memorize them. Your own weapon can be used against you when forgotten." Lexa whispered, dropping her hand back to the ground, loosening her grip on the dagger Clarke had dropped earlier.

Turning her face away and shifting her hips slightly beneath Clarke, she made a move to get up, but Clarke did not lift herself from her. She stared at the girl beneath her, removing the blade from her neck, still colored green and blue from the choke hold days prior. When she saw Lexa's jaw clench as she continued to avoid her gaze, she hesitantly released the Commander's wrist and moved it to her face.

Gingerly, ever so lightly, as though she were trying to grasp smoke, she trailed her fingertips across Lexa's shoulder, brushing up her neck and tracing her jawline. Letting the hilt of the dagger fall from her other hand, she ran her hand up the Grounder's neck. Lexa's eyes clenched shut as she let the fingers of her right hand lightly tangle in chestnut hair, firmly but gently grasping onto the nape of the Commander's neck, her thumb softly rubbing circles into her jaw muscle.

Slowly, she turned Lexa's face upwards, letting her left hand mimic her right. Clarke's brain was desperately trying to fight through the haze that had a firm grip of her mind currently, filling her senses with everything Lexa was. However, something deeper was pushing away any thoughts trying to interrupt this moment. She soaked up the young woman in front of her, breathing in her scent, feeling her warmth between her legs, the soft skin covering her angular features beneath her hands – all the while gently rubbing circles with her thumbs.

Lexa's face was tense, her whole body quivering, her hands curled into tight fists at her sides. Removing her right hand from the tangles of the Commander's long hair, she gently placed the tip of her index finger in the center of Lexa's furrowed forehead, tracing it down to the tip of her nose. Unconsciously, her torso lowered itself towards the woman beneath her again, allowing her face to hover just above the Grounder's.

"Don't shut me out, Lexa." She whispered, as she traced her finger in a straight line across the rise and fall of soft pink lips.

Her mouth opened at Clarke's touch, her finger catching the bottom lip and dragging it down slightly, as a light breath was sucked in. Splaying her fingers out across the Commander's cheek, she ran her thumb along the length of that lip, staring with marvel at being allowed access to it. Noticing a sharp movement, she tore her eyes away from Lexa's lips and finally met her eyes, which were dark green. The pupils were dilated, and Clarke felt herself falling into them, seeing so many emotions swirling in their depths, all clashing against each other, fighting to reach freedom. There was sadness, anger, exhaustion, confusion, fear, joy, and _hunger_.

Clarke's hair fell out from behind her ear, surrounding their faces with a curtain of gold, removing anything else from the world but each other's faces, not that they had been thinking of anything else to begin with. She felt Lexa's hands settle on her hips, her fingers digging into her flesh, and she tightened her own hold the girl's face.

Her body was on fire, goose bumps spreading across her skin as her core erupted in flames; she was burning up in the fire that sprung forth in Lexa's eyes. She felt weightless, released from the confines of her mind, yet tied to the Commander, as though gravity was pulling her toward the lithe body beneath her.

She let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes, dropping her forehead to meet Lexa's, their noses brushing against each other, their lips almost touching. She could feel the Commander's breath tickling her own lips, and it was not helping her attempt to try to escape the flames and reclaim herself within her body. Everywhere her mind wandered, she found bits of Lexa, as though the other girl very essence and permeated her skin.

She felt the Grounder's grip tighten even further on her hips, no doubt leaving bruises, and the shift of her head, her chin lifting upwards so that their lips just barely touched. The electricity that seared through her body made Clarke gasp and her muscles tense. Digging her finger nails into Lexa's neck, she tore them downward, eliciting a sharp hiss from the Commander, even as Clarke moved her own face to meet the second pair of lips, every part of her craving more.

"Clarke." Lexa managed to say in a choked whisper as their lips yet again brushed against each other.

Their breathing spiking and mixing in the air around them, blood rushed in Clarke ears and she had a hard time focusing on the Commander's voice. She felt one of the hands leave her hip and settle on her chest over her tell-tale heart, pushing her back, giving both of them room to breathe. Her eyes snapped open to meet Lexa's gaze, and she was certain they showed just as much of a whirlwind of emotion as the Commander's own.

"Clarke." Lexa said again, her voice shaking. "We can't."

She took in the look on the Commander's face, took in the violent red marks left on her neck due to her finger nails. Her heart beat was erratic, and she knew Lexa could feel it beneath her hand, just as Clarke could take the Grounder's fast pulse from beneath her fingertips. She knew the other girl was right, even as her body screamed at her not to listen. They could not give in to whatever was happening. The alliance was shaky, the war was coming, the people were nervous and skeptical – they could not risk things falling apart, and if this encounter had told her anything, it was that there was nothing controlled about the feelings coursing through her now.

Slowly, almost painfully, she extracted herself from the situation, lifting herself from Lexa and taking a few shaky steps back. Clarke stared as the Commander lifted herself off the ground, their eyes never leaving each other. Nodding, Clarke broke eye contact, stiffly moving over to the throne, taking great pains not to look or touch or breathe in the person standing so tantalizingly close. Lifting her jacket off the ground, she slowly put it on, her mind struggling to get the simple commands through to her body.

"I will be returning to TonDC." Lexa finally said, breaking the heavy silence.

Clarke did not trust herself to look at the Commander quite yet, so she stayed as she was, staring up at the empty throne. "Why?"

"A war council is to take place between the Generals of the clans. They do not trust the Sky People, and I do not wish for anyone to get hurt here. Better to meet in a Grounder village. Besides, I have been away from my people for too long." Clarke heard her take steps towards the throne, and tensed, balling her shaking hands into fists. Lexa appeared in her periphery, bending down to pick up her discarded clothes. Straightening, she looked Clarke in the eye, who could not help but meet the gaze. "A leader must be part of her people, but cannot afford the freedoms they do. It is her job to protect those freedoms, and sacrifice herself if need be for their benefit."

Clarke nodded once, turning away to pick up the daggers that still lay on the ground.

"You will be required to come as well. The Generals will want to hear from the Sky People themselves how they plan to aid in the upcoming battle. I will leave a guard to accompany you on the road."

Placing the daggers on the table, Clarke turned to fix Lexa with a hard stare. "You mean you'll leave someone to follow me around and report back to you. You still don't think I can take care of myself."

The Commander sighed and pulled on her shirt. "I think you can take care of yourself."

"Then why the need for a bodyguard? That's what this is, isn't it?"

"We are the Mountain Men's first targets. The road to TonDC is a dangerous one. Any extra protection should be welcome."

"I don't need protection!" Clarke growled, her frustration growing with each passing second. "I don't need you looking out for me!"

"This is not up for discussion Clarke."

"You can't order me around. I am not one of your subjects!" She slammed one of her fists on the table, her entire body shaking uncontrollably.

"None of my subjects would behave so childishly!" Lexa finally snapped. They stared at each other, each refusing to budge, until Lexa called out in Trigedasleng and one of her guards came in.

"Ryder," She continued. "I am assigning you to Clarke as a guard. You protect her with your life, is that understood?"

"Yes, Heda." The large bearded man responded, his eyes shifting to take in Clarke who stared at him with irritation.

"I must prepare for my travels. You are excused." The Commander said, turning and disappearing behind a flap in the tent hidden by the throne.

Clarke almost had it in mind to follow her, furious that Lexa would leave her in such a manner, but Ryder stood close, eyeing her, so she thought better of it. Turning on him, she looked him up and down, then rolled her eyes and marched out of the tent, the Grounder following close behind.

* * *

All she can think of is the missile. Of the destruction and death it will cause unless she can get to TonDC on time. As the horse pounds away at the ground, she curses herself for allowing her emotions to get in the way of things. Part of the reason she had sent Kane to TonDC instead of going herself was due to how angry she had been at Lexa, and now they were all in danger.

As she thunders into camp, vaguely answering Octavia's questions, part of the weight lifts off of her shoudlers when she sees the Commander standing with Indra and Kane. Together, they will be able to figure this out. Lexa will know what to do.

"Clarke of the Sky People honors us with her presence." Lexa says coolly, her eyes challenging.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Commander. Can we speak in private?" Clarke implores, trying to show the urgency of the situation to Lexa, and only Lexa.

Nodding, she leads them to the war room, where Clarke shares what she has learned. But instead of giving her an answer to save the people, the leader of the Woods Clan reaffirms what Clarke already knew deep down: There is no way out. People are going to die. Lexa's eyes are intense, piercing, looking at Clarke not as the girl who had gasped out her name, but as a Commander at war.

"You showed true strength today, don't let emotion stop you now." Lexa finishes off, after Clarke attempts to dissuade her of the plan she had proposed, still desperate to stop the devastation that is bound to occur. She remembers the Commander's words _Love is weakness. _Remembers her words from this morning in the tent. They were leaders bound by duty, and emotion was clouding her judgment.

Still, guilt and desperation sat heavy in her gut, and when she saw her mother in camp, she could not remove herself from the situation. As much as she tried, she was not like Lexa. She ran back to the village, ignoring the Commander's calls.

And when the missile hit, bringing with it an earth shattering boom and flames that roared high, all she wanted was for all of this to end.


	7. Chapter 7

_Right. So. Hi. I am in fact still alive. I am so so sorry for not updating for.. you know, months. I've been going through some tough shit and I couldn't focus on my writing. I really do apologize, I had an informal obligation to you followers and readers and I let up on that, but I'm trying to get back up and writing again. I guess this chapter is mainly a recap. I still have 2 more episodes to go before I can freestyle with the story and I really look forward to that, and I hope you guys do too. I really appreciate your patience, thank you.  
I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's from Lexa's perspective. Any reviews, corrections, recommendations, wishes, random thoughts are welcomed and appreciated. Hope you guys are having a good summer/winter. (Depending where you are in the world.)_

**_None of the characters belong to me. CW owns the rights to 'The 100'_**

* * *

Lexa stared, her eyes wide with terror, as the large flying object they named a missile hit her people's village with an explosion that shook her bones. She watched as flames erupted from the earth and a wave of air slammed through the forest, wiping out all that stood in its path.

She thought there should be a moment of silence, she thought the world might hold her breath and stop all movement at the sudden extinguished lives of her sons and daughters. And perhaps there was, perhaps the stars and moon and beasts did still momentarily, but it was covered up by the sound of screams.

Her people's screams. Shrieks of terror and pain, burning flesh and broken bones. She was running towards the remnants of TonDC before her mind even registered the movement, her feet carrying her through the dark forest they knew so well without tripping, as her thoughts stumbled over each other.

Her people, her responsibility - they were dying, in pain. She had let them die. She had run, but it was to save them. To destroy the mountain. It had been a necessary step, it had been needed. She was the Commander, she felt each of their deaths, each of their screams as though it were being ripped from her own throat. She was the Commander, her hands red with her people's blood. Not just her people. Clarke.

Her lungs squeezed tightly and she gasped, her foot tripping on a thick root, but she stumbled onward. Clarke had run back. The stubborn, foolish girl had run back. Lexa's eyes began scanning the woods around her, already her senses were being assaulted by heat and smoke and the smell of death.

She saw a white horse running through the forest in flames, her eyes tracked it and came to a jarring halt as she took in the figure of Clarke, standing alone on the path. The Sky girl's name was ripped from her lips by a force not her own as she hurried towards her, yet she did not react. Lexa looked past her, at the woman dragging her own arm behind her, and slowed.

Her body did not want to see the destruction of her people, her body did not want to see death; she was full of it, drowning in faces and screams. She did not want any more. Her body wanted to grab Clarke and run far away from all of the destruction and war, to be alone and free with the girl from the sky. But she was the Commander. And a Commander showed no fear, a Commander did what needed to be done.

Steeling herself, she again said Clarke's name, grabbing onto her arm and turning the girl to face her. Her eyes took in the look of shock, the absolute pain that was engraved on Clarke's face and she felt it sear her heart. But as she looked at the other girl, soaking in her features, she watched the sadness turn to fury, the likes of which she had never seen in her eyes. Pure hatred shone through them.

"I want the Mountain Men dead. All of them."

Lexa did not understand to what extent that fire burned inside of Clarke until the shots began to ring out, and Clarke made off to kill the spotter. The Commander had no doubt that the other girl had every intention to pull through with her threat, she had seen the bloodlust in her clear blue eyes, yet she worried it would not give Clarke the release she hoped for.

As she trailed after her, walking through the cold forest, she tried to reason with her.

"It will be dark soon. We won't have the darkness to hide us."

"Neither will he."

"I feel your anger, Clarke.." Lexa started, attempting to break through the walls Clarke had constructed around her mind. She knew what the other girl was trying to do: Focus all of the anger and sadness on something, so as not to deal with the harsh reality they now faced.

"Do me a favor. No more lessons."

"You need to focus. We do what we must to survive – the enemy does the same. It's not personal." Lexa felt her own emotions rear up as she said this, raging against the injustice and suffering, but she pushed them deep down. Her heart had no place in matters of leadership.

"It is for me."

"You think that killing the shooter will make you feel better but it won't. The only thing that will do that is winning this war."

"That's enough!" Clarke snapped, turning abruptly to face her.

Before she could continue, they were interrupted by a figure running through the forest. From its depths, Lincoln emerged, his brow furrowed as he realized who he was facing. Lexa could see his mind working overtime, piecing together the pieces. She could not allow a confrontation to take place here, not with her people still in danger.

"Quickly. We need to get to the high grounds." She ordered, walking off ahead of the two of them.

* * *

The sun had risen from its slumber, lighting the mountain range in gold. A cool wind blew lightly across the shrubs, gently nudging them awake, and carrying with it the smell of smoke. Lexa stood for a moment to take in the destruction of the missile in the light of a new day, allowing her heart feel freely for a moment. The fire still burned orange among the green trees, with black smoke rising high into the sky. She felt the anger course through her body at the sight, and turned to follow Lincoln and Clarke make their way further up the mountain side.

As she stepped forward, a shot rang out, barely missing her head. The three of them quickly took cover behind a boulder.

"So much for the element of surprise." She muttered.

"I'll draw his fire." Lincoln offered, moving to step out into the open.

"No. I will."

Clarke stepped out from behind the rock and began firing aimlessly in the direction of where the shot had originated before either of them could stop her. Gritting her teeth, Lexa looked over at Lincoln and nodded, letting him run off towards the shooter. As he left, Clarke stumbled back to cover, the last echoes of the gunshots ringing out in the air.

They met each other's eye, each of them breathing heavily, waiting for Lincoln to engage the shooter, when they heard the first sounds of a fight. With little hesitation, both of them stepped forward and made their way to the fighting men.

When Lexa stepped out from behind the tree, she saw a man dressed in green clothing with a helm on his head and war paint over his eyes gripping Lincoln, a knife held across his throat. Clarke stood before him, her blue eyes intense as she pointed her weapon at Mountain Man.

"Clarke!" Lincoln grunted against the metal. "Please! Your people need you!"

"You are my people." Clarke responded, in an eerily soft voice. She pulled the trigger, sending a bullet flying through Lincoln's shoulder and into the other man's chest, who let out a cut off groan of pain before falling to the ground.

Lexa moved forward, her eyes resting on the dead man who had aimed the missile that had killed so many of her people. She felt no relief, no less sorrow for their deaths, no less rage at the Mountain. She felt her emotions lick like flames at her skin, but she refused to let them escape, instead maintaining the mask she by now knew better than her own face.

"Did that make you feel better?" She asked.

"No."

They walked in silence back to the destroyed village. Lincoln strode ahead, applying pressure to his bullet wound as he made his way back down the mountain side. Clarke walked behind him, her body limp and with sagging shoulders, which Lexa noted with a small frown as she made up the rear.

The fires had mostly been put out or died out, but the scent of smoke and burnt flesh hung heavy in the air as they entered the village. Lexa took it all in, every stray body part, every blood smeared and ash covered face. She tried to memorize each and every one, their glazed eyes staring back at her, neither accusatory nor relieved – their spirits were gone, now they were just empty cages of flesh.

As they reached the spot where the missile had landed, Lincoln moved quickly forward, staggering down into the crater to embrace Octavia. Lexa surveyed the massive hole in the ground and the people who milled about, sifting through rubble or tending the wounded. Soon enough, her people began to notice her and chant. She raised a hand to quiet them. They were calling for their Commander, and that she would be.

"What happened here will not stand. The Mountain will fall. The dead will be avenged!"

Cheers went up around her as the warriors let out battle cries. However, Abby cut them short, ordering them to continue their work and help those in need. As the men and women hurried to do as was bid, the woman fixed Clarke with a hard stare.

Lexa turned to look at her companion, taking in her drawn face, her furrowed brows. She was exhausted, they both were, but there was so much more to be done. Clarke needed to continue onward, to have faith in both herself and their cause.

"With our two people working together, we will win this war, Clarke." Lexa said, attempting to fight against the hopelessness pooling in light blue eyes.

The other girl did not respond, but simply turned to look out at the wreckage they had both let happen.

* * *

The sounds of her people easily penetrated the hides that made up the walls of her tent. The clanking of metal, gruff voices, feet marching across packed earth – all of it was as familiar to her as the simple sounds of the forests. Her people were made to fight, trained since youth to bleed, and she knew they were all prepared to lay down their lives at her word to end the reign of the mountain.

She lay on her furs attempting to get some rest before the march tomorrow, her heart beating calmly, in sync with the world around her. Lexa knew however that around the edges of her mind their prowled a beast of her own creation, dark as the moonless night and as ferocious as her terrors, ready to pounce should she let her mind wander to far from its current focus. She did not have the liberty to face it yet, for fear that she might succumb to its fangs, its eyes filled with the dead eyes of her people.

Clarke interrupted her spiraling thoughts with another anxious question, her mind working and reworking a plan that had already been set.

"Your people said it would." She sighed in response, hoping the blonde would rest soon, but naturally the other girl kept digging.

With a flicker of irritation the Commander rose from her bed, attempting to speak reason. This constant worry and second guessing would do nothing but cause more anxiety for her, even if they theoretically had a perfect plan, prior experience showed that no plan stands up against the chaos of battle. It was only when Clarke mentioned the boy, Bellamy, that Lexa paused, a small pang of jealousy shooting through her at the concern she detected in the other girl's words.

"You care for him?" She ventured in a steady voice.

"I _care_ about all of them."

"Yet you worry about him more." Lexa retorted, rounding on Clarke.

"I couldn't have kept us alive all this time without him! We need him! …And now I might be the one who gets him killed."

"This is what it means to be a leader, Clarke. The truth is we must look into the eyes of our warriors and say 'Go die for me.'"

"If only it were that easy." Lexa tried not to allow the look of disgust that passed over Clarke's face get to her as the blonde turned her back on her to focus on the map again, obviously attempting to bring the conversation to a close.

Lexa was not done however and tried to bring Clarke to see the truth of their situation. The girl was fraying underneath the strain she put herself in, carrying the weight of every death and every decision on her shoulders even when there was nothing more to be done. She knew what such a burden could do to the mind and did not want to watch that happen behind those blue eyes.

Yet she saw in the way Clarke refused to maintain eye contact, in the way her brows furrowed and her jaw set stubbornly that the blonde would not hear her words, her mind already too much a whirlwind. It frustrated the Commander, that after their delicate approach towards each other over the past days, after that day in her tent when they had almost given in to the smoldering heat that lay beneath both their skins, that the fragile trust they had managed to establish had cracked beneath the weight of the missile.

Glowering at Clarke, she said quietly: "You were born for this Clarke." Bitterly she added: "Same as me."

* * *

Lexa stared at herself in the mirror, carefully applying the lines of her war paint. It always calmed her to sit in silence before the war and see her skin disappear beneath the black charcoal. A precise design that reminded her of the sharp tips of trees in the night and the dark beasts that roamed it, her domain that she had vowed to protect with her life. She was the Commander of the Tree Clan, a warrior to be reckoned with, leading an army that would trample its enemies beneath their feet.

As she was applying the last marks, her tent flaps were shoved open and her bodyguard was shoved to his knees in front of her. Clarke, her eyes ablaze in fury, right behind him. She was so small in comparison, the Commander noted somewhat distractedly, how would she survive this upcoming battle? Yet there was little time to continue along that line of thought as Clarke was demanding answers.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She snarled, marching up to Lexa's throne after her bodyguard had stormed out of the tent. "You can't just kill everyone you don't trust!"

Barely sparing the wild girl a glance, she responded. "Yes I can."

"Well I won't let you!"

Lexa sighed. She was tired of these constant confrontations, of Clarke constantly doubting everything either of them decided, constantly caring, wanting to protect. She thought it made her strong, yet Lexa knew that love was weakness.

"You were willing to let her die two days ago. Nothing has changed."

"You're wrong. I have. I can't do this anymore."

Can't do this anymore? Lexa watched as Clarke dejectedly walked in the opposite direction, her mind starting to work in overdrive. What did that mean? Was she done with the war? With leading? With her? The thought caused her heart to clench painfully, which made Lexa angry. She could not let emotions sway her, they had no room in the life of a leader. And Clarke was a leader too, whether she wanted it or not.

"Octavia is a threat. If you weren't so close to her you'd see that."

"It's because I'm close to her that I know she's loyal. Her brother is more important to her than anyone, she would never endanger his life."

"And you're willing to risk everything on that?" Lexa paused, pinning the other girl with a stare. "On your feelings?"

"Yes." The commander watched the flames in the blue eyes opposite hers grow fiercer. She had not realized how much she had missed this vivacious side of Clarke, but that feelings was fleeting as the other girl's voice began to grow stronger and more accusatory. "You say having feelings make me weak, but _you're_ weak for hiding from them. I might be a hypocrite Lexa but you're a liar."

The Commander did not like how this conversation was evolving, but she did not know what to say, she had never had anyone speak to her in this way. Her heart beat was picking up in speed, and as Clarke took a step forward instead of stand her ground, she began backing up.

"You felt something for Gustus, you're still haunted by Costia; you want everyone to think you're above it all, but I see right through you."

Lexa's thighs hit a table and she let out the slightest yelp, her hands grabbing on to the edges for support as her hips jerked. Clarke was a breathe away, her sweet scent mingling with Lexa's unsteady breaths as her piercing eyes unforgivingly bored into her own. For the first time in many moons, Lexa felt vulnerable and exposed, as though the Sky Girl could indeed see every thought and fleeting emotion that passed through her.

Attempting to regain some authority, she spat out: "Get out."

Yet Clarke did not listen. "250 people died in that village. I know you felt for them. But you let them burn." She mercilessly continued, her words slamming against the Commanders carefully constructed walls with the force of thunderous skies. Things Lexa tried to keep hidden, keep deep down inside her, started breaking free and the beast began to go on a rampage in her mind, tearing apart coherent thought and word and leaving behind raw painful emotions and memories of the dead.

Lexa could feel moisture build up in her eyes. _Clarke. Clarke had run back. _"Not everyone. Not you."

She watched confusion and surprise wash over the blonde's face as her blue eyes flickered across the Commanders face. As she took a step back, Lexa held her gaze but did not try to mask her thoughts or feelings. She bared herself to the girl, let the exhaustion she always felt gnawing at her bones wash over her.

"Well if you care about me, then… trust me. Octavia's not a threat."

"I can't do that."

The softness disappeared from Clarke's face, and Lexa internally winced. "I can't sacrifice my people anymore. If you do anything to hurt Octavia, I'll tell everyone we knew about the missile."

Her heart beat painfully as the other girl stormed out of her tent, her breathing was haggard and the tears stubbornly remained in her eyes. She tried to compose herself, to regain the posture of the Commander she was, but all she felt like was a fraud.


	8. Chapter 8

_Hello again. While this was not the timeliest of updates, it's still better than my month long disappearance. This is a very short chapter. Like One-Shot short, but I'm struggling to figure out whether or not I want to transcribe any more of the series, or **finally **move on to a more AU sort of setting. Honestly I'm probably going to move forward; we all know what happened. And I've had so many fun ideas for so long that I'm just itching to write. But this is kind of sort of interactive, so if you wonderful readers have ideas on the matter do feel free to share them and I will most definitely take them into consideration. Enjoy the short blurb of a chapter, review and revise or tell me about the weather, whatever you'd like. Enjoy!_

**_Characters are not mine. All rights to The 100 and it's characters belong to CW._**

* * *

Lexa stared at the map without really seeing it. Her eyes flickered past lines and markings, various strategies mapped out on how to possibly achieve victory in a battle that would cost her people dearly. But instead of the war she was about to head into, her head refused to listen; all it gave her instead were images of Clarke. Flashes of their time spent together, of the times Lexa had watched her hidden in the shadows, seen her grow and adapt to the harsh demands of the world they lived on.

The Commander did not know what life had been like for Clarke up in the stars that she so willingly gave trust, or so foolishly tried to protect one instead of the group. The Sky people's ways were strange and when they had first landed in her woods she had thought them soft, weak – floundering about like children as they stampeded through the forest without being aware of the world around them. There was no doubt they still had much to learn, but Lexa had also seen strength and wisdom in some of their ways. And Clarke was the best of them.

The flap to her tent opened then, and the girl her mind had latched onto walked into her quarters, her face formed into an irritated frown.

"You sent for me?"

Lexa paused, taking in the girl, questioning if what she was about to do was wise. It had been a long time since she had needed to admit a wrong, and even longer before she had allowed herself to trust anyone. Yet as she stared into the sky blue eyes her heart thudded painfully: for once, she simply wanted to be free.

"Yes. Octavia has nothing to fear from me." She looked away. "I do trust you, Clarke."

She waited, part of her expecting rejection of her trust. What if she had irreparably damaged the fragile bond that had slowly been growing between them?

Instead, she saw Clarke step closer out of the corner of her eye. "I know how hard that is for you." She said softly.

Lexa looked up and paused. Did this girl even know what she spoke of? Did she truly understand what she and her people had gone through, that how they acted was needed to survive?

"You think our ways are harsh, but it's how we survive."

"Maybe life should be about more than just surviving. Don't we deserve better than that?"

Lexa's eyes widened momentarily as she took in Clarke's face. _More than just surviving. _Costia had said similar things late at night as they lay together beneath the stars. She had spoken to the younger Commander about the injustice of constantly cowering beneath the mountain, constantly being at war with one person or clan or idea. How any human should have the right to wake up one day and breathe in and be free, how even Lexa should be allowed to live and not just serve.

It all flooded back to her, all of her moments with Costia. Clarke was not Costia, her spirit still wandered the unseen realms, but perhaps a kindred spirit resided within her, one that had once brushed against Costia's in another life time. Within her chest blossomed an incredible pressure, stealing her breath and scattering her thoughts. All she could see was Clarke, nothing else mattered then, they were timeless and free.

"Maybe we do."

She reached forward, placing a hand on the side of Clarke's face and before her head could stop her with logic and obligations and all of the other reasons why she shouldn't give in to the urges she had felt within her for weeks, she kissed Clarke of the Sky People. It was gentle and hesitant, the flames and heat they had both felt earlier in her tent smoldering slowly within them but not running havoc through their bodies. But even so, Lexa felt her heart speed up and her stomach flutter as Clarke returned the kiss.

But as she went in for more, and by the gods did she want more, the other girl suddenly jerked backward, breaking the connection. Lexa dropped her hand and took a step back, attempting to rearrange her face into something more suitable for the sudden turn of events.

"I'm sorry.. I'm not ready-to be with anyone. Not yet."

Not yet? The Commander looked at her not showing any emotion, but within her mind swirled with confusion and though she tried to ignore it, her heart withered painfully. What had happened inside the tent during their training then? Had that been nothing but lust, and this kiss had made Clarke realize that she did not want anything sweet or gentle, but simply to lay with her? Lexa wished she understood what was happening, but this was not the time to go down that path, she would respect Clarke's wishes, whether or not they made sense to her.

As they stared at each other in silence, reeling with their own thoughts, voices started to shout outside the tent. The red signal could be seen in the sky. It was time to go to war.


	9. Chapter 9

_I'm back again. With a longer chapter too. Look at me go. I hope all my wonderful readers are doing well and enjoy this new tidbit. As always, if you have any recommendations, any reviews, anything to say, drop me a review. They are very helpful, and I like talking to you guys. Enjoy!_

**_None of the characters are mine. The 100 belongs to CW._**

_S-Mayumi: Thank you, we get so little of Lexa's thoughts it's nice to be in her head. We'll be delving back in there soon. Don't worry._

_ash22n: No joke. I saw that comment and it kicked me in the butt to get this up today. Thanks for that._

* * *

The war was over.

War… Was that even a word that could be used to describe it? It had begun as a war, with warriors shouts as they marched as one to face an enemy in combat. In honest combat, if such a thing could even be said to exist. Clarke had walked along side Lexa, two leaders about to bring justice to their people and the Mountain – and although she hated to admit it, she had felt assured as her steps synced up with those of the Commander.

And now she walked alone through the forest, hounded by flashes of the massacre. She could not call it war. She had murdered hundreds of people with the simple flip of a lever, innocent people, people who had no chance to fight back. She had seen the radiation run through their body as they all choked in pain, writhing on the floor before succumbing to death.

She had murdered an entire population to save her own, and Lexa had essentially done the same. Her teeth gritted against each other and her eyes stung as she thought of the betrayal, of the cowardice. Anger laced with disgust boiled within her, speeding up her heart, and she stopped moving forward, standing instead with clenched fists and staring blindly at the ground.

She did not want to understand the Commander's motives, did not want to feel as though her action was similar to Lexa's. Lexa had betrayed her, betrayed the sky people, broken the pact, left them all to die - left her with the simple phrase of _May we meet again. _Clarke felt her jaw clench. If she ever saw the Commander again, she would make sure of the fact that she regretted her choice.

Yet as the thought crossed her mind her body deflated. How would she make Lexa regret it? She had seen the pain in her eyes, the conflict playing out there as Clarke had stared at her in disbelief. And even so, Lexa was still the Commander of the Tree People, a formidable group of enemies. Clarke did not know where they now stood in terms of a pact, and inciting a full-on war with them by attacking their Commander would hail destruction onto her friends and family who at this point so desperately need time to recover.

Clarke sighed and rubbed her forehead. This was exactly why she had left. She did not want to constantly be thinking about how actions would affect other people anymore, did not want to be in charge of who lives and who dies. She had been thrust into that position, had been forced to learn how to make drastic choices, like the simple flip of a lever.

Letting out a frustrated sigh she began walking again, trying to work off some of her irritation. She had been wandering the woods now a few days and she still had no plan of where she was going and what she was going to do. In all honesty she did not exactly know where she was anymore either. Her decision to leave camp had been a spur of the moment choice and the longer she was out in these woods the more aware of that she became; she had run out of food the day before and her water ration was running low. Every night she had spent shivering at the bottom of a tree, jerking awake at the slightest noise - the only thing she could be grateful for was that she had not yet run into any of the darker creatures of the forest, as she only had her gun and a dagger for protection.

However, the idea of returning to camp did not sit well with her. She knew that as soon as she was sighted she would be ushered through the gates and unofficially reinstated as a leader, and required to dictate everyone else's lives. Naturally only after everyone else in that camp had lectured her for her choices – because no matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried, she was always doing something wrong.

She did not focus on where her feet were taking her, a sense of utter resignation settling in her bones. Was this the world they had fought so hard to come to? A place where people were slaughtered, driven to do unspeakable things, driven mad? Where innocence and trust withered and died beneath the eyes of the cruel? Her head hurt with all the thoughts that thrashed about within her mind. Clarke was tired, tired of fighting everything and everyone including herself. Tears began to build in her eyes and soon began streaming down her dirty cheeks, washing away dirt and sweat and leaving sticky tracks behind.

Collapsing suddenly onto her knees she dug her hands into the soft earth, desperately holding onto the earth as sorrow wracked her body, groans that almost sounded like screams bubbled up out of her mouth.

"I'm so sorry." She choked out, faces flashing in front of her mind's eye, all the people she had killed, all the people she had lost, all of the battles and mistakes and shattered dreams. The fear and anger and bitterness, all of it came boiling up, exploding out of her core where she had been pushing it down to for so very long. "Please… Forgive me.. I'm so sorry."

Shifting she fell onto her side and curled up into a ball, trying to keep herself from completely falling apart as the pain took over. Her sobs drifted through the tree trunks, carried by the breeze, and it seemed as though the forest was holding its breath. No sound responded to her cries, and Clarke felt so very alone.

* * *

She had been falling in and out of sleep, her body exhausted from the sudden release of emotions and lulled by the smell of the forest and the light breeze that played across her skin. The sun had set, pulling a dark curtain over the trees and taking away the warmth of the day, leaving Clarke to shiver on the forest floor. Her body was telling her to get up, to seek safety and warmth, but her mind was numb, and she stared blindly ahead.

She could see no reason to keep going, to keep fighting. In the end death always seemed to find the people she was trying to protect, in the end nothing she did mattered – they were all going to die, and she would be left alone. Out in the darkness a twig snapped. Clarke blinked, her mind clearing and she sat up slightly, staring intently in the direction she believed to have heard it. The forest was eerily quiet, and goosebumps that were not being caused by the cold spread across the nape of her neck.

Slowly, she unfolded her body and pushed herself up into a crouching position, turning around to face the opposite direction. She knew she was being watched, whether it was beast, friend, or foe, however, was still to be decided. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and her previous thoughts came rushing back. Now was the time to decide. Was she going to give up, or was she going to fight for the right to live, like she had been doing since the dropship had landed?

Straightening, she saw a large shape moving through the forest, she could hear its heavy breathing and smell the musty scent of shaggy fur. Squinting into the darkness, she managed to make out its shape: A large wolf. A _very _large wolf. Almost the size of a small horse. Clarke's mouth became dry as more of it became illuminated by moonlight.

Its thick pelt was as black as the woods surrounding it, which would have made it almost impossible to see if it weren't for the full moon gracing the sky that night. The eyes glowed yellow when the moonlight reflected off of them – it was a terrifying sight that froze her in place.

Yet as it slowly stepped out into the small area in which she stood, she noted with confusion that there were thick spears embedded in its chest, its fur matted with blood. And in its mouth it held a small animal.

Clarke did not know what to do. She had not drawn her weapon yet, but the wolf had also made no move to attack her. It stood at the edge of their little clearing, panting heavily around whatever it was holding in its mouth, its previously strong legs shaking beneath its own weight – Clarke could tell the spears had pierced vital organs, and that the animal was dying.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, it took steps forward, its eyes piercing into hers, rooting her to the spot. She dared not move, her breathing reduced to shallow intakes as sweat trickled down her neck. It came an arms width away from her and then stopped again, the smell of blood surrounding her, before gently placing the creature in its mouth at her feet. Glancing down, a pang of sorrow tore through her heart: It was a pup, hardly bigger than a human baby.

She looked back up at the wolf, and something inside of her fell into place. Her nerved calmed themselves, although her heart continued to pound, and she slowly lifted her hand off of her hip where her dagger was. Maintaining eye contact with the massive wolf in front of her, she slowly reached out, her fingers shaking slightly. The wolf snorted uneasily, its eyes narrowing, but it did not move, nor did it bare its teeth.

Taking a small step forward and a large breath, she placed her hand on the side of the wolf's face, her fingers disappearing into the thick fur, which was surprisingly soft. A small smile spread across her face and she let out the lightest of laughs, as she gently scratched its jawline. In that moment, everything fell away – she felt elated, so close to a pure form of wilderness that she could taste the freedom it brought.

She registered a strange whistling sound at the edge of her mind and before she pieced it together something thudded into the wolf and it reared up, a howl tearing from its throat before it collapsed onto the forest floor. Clarke stood there, her hand still hanging outstretched, where it had previously connected with the elegant creature that now lay bleeding out at her feet, staring up at her with dull yellow eyes.

Collapsing again to her knees, she placed her hands on the wolf's face, running them through the fur, making soft cooing noise as she watched the life fade from its eyes. Tears built in her own as she heard its last shuddered breath leave its body, but she knew she had no time to mourn. Its pup was seeking warmth, whining and nuzzling against one of the legs. Clarke scooped it up and held it in one arm, drawing her gun with the other.

She turned around, anger coursing through her veins, and faced a group of grounders. They stood a few feet away, a group of four; their faces masked, silent as the trees that surrounded them. Clarke glowered at the group of them.

"What do you want?" She shouted.

The pup in her arms jumped and began struggling against her side. Looking down she readjusted her grip on it and scratched it behind the ear, trying to calm it back down. However, when she saw movement out of the periphery of her eye, she glanced back up, two of the grounders had begun moving towards her, their eyes fixed on the pup.

She raised her firearm, pointing it at the closer one's head, bringing them to a halt.

"You are not going to touch this animal."

"That animal is dangerous, Clarke." A voice said from her right.

Her back tensed, and her heart began beating painfully. She turned to look at the Commander. She emerged from the shadows like the wolf itself, a sheen of sweat covering her face, a hand clamped down on her arm, where there was obviously a deep wound that had been quickly bound. Her face was pale, and Clarke could see that she was in a lot of pain but trying hard not to show it.

"Its siblings are dead, and so is the mother. It will die a slow and painful death, alone."

"It's not alone. It has me. I'm going to protect it."

Lexa's eyes widened slightly, the green in them shining brightly beneath the moon. "You cannot be so foolish as to think you can raise a wild animal like this one. Did you not see the size of its mother? How do you expect to control it?"

Clarke's eyes fell to the corpse laying on the ground next to her, in the spot where she had previously lain that day, searching for something in life that was good and pure, for a reason to keep fighting. The blood had leaked across the forest floor, staining the scents of the forest with death, but she remembered the feeling this wolf had instilled in her, how intense and vast its eyes had been. It was not a wild, enraged beast lusting for blood. It was the product of its circumstances.

"The pup will not be harmed." Clarke said, her voice ringing with authority and challenge. "And if you want to hurt it you will have to go through me first."

Lexa looked at her for a long while in silence, blood running through her fingertips. Clarke tried to squash the concern she felt stir in her chest at the sight of it, but was unsuccessful, and began to bite the inside of her cheek nervously. Suddenly, Lexa barked orders to the four men standing on the sidelines, who quickly sprang into action and walked towards the large wolf, preparing it up for transportation.

Clarke watched with sadness as the Grounders flung the corpse around, the previously strong beast reduced to nothing but lifeless flesh and bones. Holstering her gun, she tucked the pup safer into her arm, and shouldered off one side of her jacket to wrap around it, before glancing up to meet Lexa's gaze.

The Commander stood silently, leaning slightly against a tree, her eyes never wavering from Clarke's, her brows pulled together, part of her body hidden in the shadows. Clarke did not drop her gaze either, refusing to back down from the Commander. She would never again allow her inside her head – or her heart.

* * *

_Yes. There is a wolf. I'm a sucker for a good wolf plot in stories. Tell me if you guys like the wolf pup or not. Cheers!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Hello. Longer chapter for you today! There's a switch in POV in the middle from Clarke to Lexa, and terms and sentences written in italics mean Trigedasleng. Thank you so so much to everyone who reviewed, I'm so glad so many of you like the wolf pup, and thank you to everyone who has read, followed, liked, and browsed my story. There was such a sudden influx of reviews that I sadly can't respond to everyone but I appreciated every one of them none the less. Thank you! And Enjoy!_

**_Characters are not mine. The 100 belongs to CW._**

_kkbk: Definitely not going crawling back to Lexa so soon. If anything, Lexa should come crawling back to Clarke. But I don't think either of them will be there any time soon._

_Hiyoshi Ren: I agree. Time jumps can be kind of annoying, but I was tired of recapping and wanted to press the story onward. So I'm glad it didn't diminish the story for you._

_Emma 0605: I'm so sorry you got teary eyed, and at the same time it's like one of the best reviews I could get. Emotional responses to my story are the best._

* * *

The small group of Grounders had set up camp for the night. They had walked a bit further into the forest, coming to a stop at a steep incline in which Clarke soon saw there was a decently sized cave. At first she had not intended to join the group, looking to leave as soon as possible, but she had realized the Grounders had different ideas when they had laid their hands on their weapons, blocking her path as she had made to leave. No amount of glares or threats would move them.

So instead she had seen herself forced to grudgingly follow behind Lexa as she led their way to their current abode, where the people of the forest clan had quickly set up a fire outside of the entrance to the cave. At first, Clarke had neared the source of heat, still worried about the pup's wellbeing, but once she saw the Grounders take out the knives and begin cutting into the slain wolf, she had felt sick and had promptly gotten up to go sit in the cave.

There the Commander sat, leaning against the wall, one of her legs outstretched, focused on the bandage on her arm in the dim light of the flames. Clarke paused for a moment at the entrance, her shadow flickering in front of her as she considered what the best course of action was. Her heart was telling her to aid the wounded commander, and her mind was telling her to be stubborn and give the other girl the cold shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, she walked to the opposite wall of the cave and sat down there, careful not to loosen her grip on the pup which still laid nestled between her arm and her chest, surrounded by her coat. Crossing her legs, she slowly unwrapped the bundle, creating a little nest in her legs and placing the small animal in the center. It wriggled about a bit, letting out weak whines. Gently, she traced her finger down its spine and back, calmed by the feeling of the soft fur.

She took a moment to look over the pup as it struggled to move about. Its fur was as black as its mothers, but she thought she could see a hint of silver hidden in the dark. Its eyes were still shut, and its paws looked disproportionately large in comparison to the rest of its body – yet as far as her knowledge of the usual size of puppies went, this one dwarfed them all. It was about the size of a large baby, but judging by the size of its mother, it still had a long way to go.

"You are foolish to keep that animal." She heard Lexa murmur.

Refusing to look up, she responded coldly: "I don't think I asked for your opinion on the matter."

"I am simply warning you. They are dangerous. You are lucky the mother did not kill you. Many a strong warrior has succumbed to the claws of the Fenrif. At the beginnings of the new age they roamed these woods in packs and would massacre entire villages at a time."

"They were trying to survive. I seem to recall you being of the opinion that many things are excused in the name of survival." Clarke spat, finally looking up to fixate the Commander with a hard stare.

Lexa did not flinch. "I am responsible for the survival of my people."

"Is that why you killed the mother? Why you slaughtered defenseless pups? I don't seem to recall there being mention of any difficulties with these Fenrif in my time spent at your village."

Clarke noticed a look of discomfort cross over Lexa's face, how her eyes swiveled to look out at the warriors, who Clarke noticed with disgust had sliced up the wolf and started hanging pieces of its flesh to cure in the smoke of the fire. One of them was beating the pelt, an expansive piece of fur that could wrap itself around three grown men with ease. She was about to pursue the subject when the wolf pup – the Fenrif pup – in her lap let out a high pitched whine, throwing its head into the air and struggling to get out of its confinement.

"It is probably hungry." Lexa said softly, her expression unreadable as she looked down at the small bundle in her lap. "But it is too young to eat meat. I do not know how you imagine you will feed it."

Clarke's chest constricted slightly at this point, but she refused to let it show. "I'll figure it out."

The Commander opened her mouth to say something while attempting to shift her weight, however a small gasp escaped her mouth and she gripped her leg, which Clarke noticed for the first time with horror had a bandaged tightly wrapped around it. The reason she had not seen it before was because the cloth, and the entire pants leg, was completely drenched in dark blood.

"What did you do?" Clarke breathed out, her chest clenching even further.

"I fought a Fenrif." Lexa responded, a slightly amused look on her face.

Clarke stared at her, and after a moment more of indecision awkwardly stood up wrapping the pup up tightly in her coat again as she did, and made her way over to sit next to the outstretched leg of the Commander. She again created a cradle of sorts for the small animal, before she took a closer look at the wound on Lexa's thigh. She drew in a quick breath as she saw the extent of the damage – and that even before the wound was properly cleaned.

"You need stitches! How have you not passed out yet?"

Lexa chuckled and leaned her head back against the wall, her eyes closed, and Clarke noticed with unease how pale her skin was. The shaft of moonlight which had managed to trickle down from the sky into the cave was slashed across her face, giving it a ghostly luminosity.

"I am not allowed to tend to my wound until I have been presented with the pelt. Only then is the kill complete and I have proven myself a worthy warrior."

"What are you talking about? You are already the Commander of your people, doesn't that speak for itself?"

Lexa sighed and opened her eyes to look at Clarke blearily. For a moment she did not say anything, just looking at her with eyes that seemed far away. A flash of pain and sadness suddenly flashed through those eyes, though whether it was due to her wounds or a memory Clarke could not tell.

"Some of my people have begun to think me weak. They believe I took the coward's way out that night at the mountain." She said quietly, her eyes falling to the pup in Clarke's lap, which seemed to have fallen asleep. "There have been whispers of challenges and insubordination. They speak of you, of how you killed an entire mountain with no support. They have begun to fear you, to respect you," She smiled slightly, "begrudgingly, but none the less. I need to maintain control over my people. Even if they respect you, they do not respect the sky people… Another leader could mean catastrophe for the sky people... For Clarke…"

Clarke blinked at the use of her name in third person, bringing her back to the present from the memories that had begun to wreak havoc on her mind. Lexa's eyes were half closed, her body limp, her speech was slurred and she did not seem to be completely present anymore.

"Lexa..?" Clarke said softly, touching her shoulder lightly.

_"Klark…. Kamp raun hir… Ai... Mi kru… Jus drein jus draun… Klark…"_

Clarke stared at her, and when she realized that Lexa was no longer speaking she felt panic seize her heart. She could not die. No, not here, not now. She could not loose someone again, not so soon after seeing all those lifeless bodies in the mountain. As quickly and gingerly as she could, she placed the sleeping pup next to Lexa's hip, and was about to jump up to alert the other grounders when something in her gut stopped her. Everything Lexa had told her about her people, everything she had seen, they believe in strength over weakness, tradition. There was no way this would end well for Lexa if Clarke told her people that she was dying.

She knelt, frozen to her spot by Lexa's side, weighing her options. Lexa had abandoned her in a moment of need, leaving her to fend for herself against the mountain; she had walked away from their truce, allegiance, and relationship – whatever one might call it. She had chosen the lives of her people over her honor. And now she lay dying before her as a result. Clarke owed her nothing, all outstanding debts had been nullified when she was forced to pull that lever. Forced to choose her people over others and massacre hundreds.

And yet she found her hands moving, tearing the small bag she carried off over her shoulder, searching its insides for the medical supplies she always carried with her. She found a needle, some thread and a small roll of bandages. Leaning over Lexa's limp body, she grabbed the Commander's canteen and after reaffirming that it was only water, ripped her pants so she had better access to the mess on her thigh.

Pouring the contents over the wound, she sucked in a deep breath as she saw the numerous puncture wounds, some clean, some torn, marking the Commander's thigh. The only thing that gave her hope was that it seemed like through some miracle, the Fenrif had missed any major artery. That being said, Clarke could tell that the muscle had been severely damaged and that it would take Lexa a long time to full recover – if at all.

She worked quickly, casting nervous glances over her shoulder at the other grounders, who thankfully seemed content to ignore the two of them as they went about their work in the dark. Clarke sewed up the tears in Lexa's pale skin, and even a stitch or two where the teeth had left clean puncture marks, as the Fenrif had been so large that its fangs left gaping holes. Finishing it off with a tight bandage round Lexa's thigh, she moved around to her other side where her haphazardly bandaged arm lay.

Picking it up gingerly, she quickly noticed that something was wrong. Although there was not too much blood, she could tell just as her fingers lightly traced over the bandages that there was severe swelling. Gently, she unwrapped the dirty cloth and saw the dark discoloration spread out across the entire lower arm; that, in addition to the odd angle, made it clear to her that Lexa had managed to break her arm.

In comparison to the mess her thigh had been, Clarke almost lazily found branches to make a splint, using up the rest of her bandages and string to make sure that the arm would not be able to move easily, and would hopefully set right. In the darkness of the cave there was not much else she could do then, and for a moment she just sat where she was staring at the steady rise and fall of Lexa's chest.

She was worried about the girl. As much as it irked her to admit it, she still cared for her. She was stubborn and unpredictable, and had caused Clarke to do unspeakable things, but part of her understood why, part of her missed the way Lexa used to look at her without judgement, without expecting her to know all the answers. Would it be so bad if she were to return to the Grounder camp with her? She could even explain it away by saying she was concerned of an infection in her thigh, which was in fact a very real possibility. Just because she had managed to stop the worst of the bleeding did not mean that Lexa was out of the woods yet.

But Clarke knew she was not ready to return. She had only been gone a few days, and whatever issues had forced her to walk away from her civilization had not yet been resolved. Besides, she now at the pup to take care of, and if Lexa was anything to go by, the Grounders would kill the animal as soon as they set eyes on it. But how would she do that? She barely had any water, had no food supplies, limited hunting capabilities, no orientation, no plan; she was barely making it on her own and now she was to take care of such a small fragile animal?

Exhaustion hit her then, rolled over her body in waves. She was so tired of it all, so tired of the insecurities and doubt and fear. Leaning back against the rock wall, she closed her eyes. Just let it all fade away. Please.

* * *

Lexa awoke slowly, her entire body stiff and sore, feeling as though she had been coated in snow and then thawed. In fact, she first became aware of something warm and soft pressed against her side, slowly opening her dry eyes, she turned her neck to awkwardly look down at a head of blonde hair leaning against her shoulder. Clarke. The girl lay nestled against her side, curled carefully around her broken arm, which Lexa noted now had a new splint on it.

And beneath it, curled in the gap between Clarke and her, lay something dark and fuzzy. At first, Lexa thought it was just her bleary eyes seeing things where nothing existed, but after blinking a few times she realized that Clarke's pup was sleeping soundly next to them. Using her other hand, she gently ran her fingers along its soft fur, marveling at how such a small animal could turn into a rampant beast.

The pup awoke at her touch, a green eye exposing itself in the midst of dark fur. Slowly uncurling itself, it awkwardly stretched in the limited space provided, a pink tongue protruding from its maws as it yawned, clumsily stumbling to one side. Lexa smiled at its lack of coordination, and watched as it struggled out from between them, climbing over her legs towards the cave entrance. She jerked and hissed as the pup applied pressure to her thigh, which made it jump off and back away from her skittishly.

Ignoring it, Lexa took in the clean bandages now tightly wrapped around her leg. The dirty clothes and bandages lay next to her, as well as her canister and Clarke's bag. A sigh of relief escaped her as she looked at the girl sleeping peacefully next to her. Perhaps she had not completely destroyed everything with her decision at the mountain. Gently pushing Clarke's head off of her shoulder she slowly moved away from her, her right leg hurting with every jolt.

Slowly, using the wall as support, she pushed herself up off the ground. Gnashing her teeth together to silence the grunts and hisses of pain that pushed to escape her mouth. Once she stood somewhat upright, she took a deep breath to collect herself, and then pushed herself away from the wall, stiffly limping forward. The pup, which had been sniffing around the cave, looked up at her as she walked away, following behind her with caution.

Stopping at the entrance of the cave, she looked down at the four men who had followed her. One slept, while another stood guard, the other two working on prepping the wolf.

Letting out a sharp whistle, she called the three that were awake to attention.

_"Wake Darrak. Tell him to go find me a branch to aid me in walking, as well as a rabbit and some White Tear leaves. Tell him to prepare them as he would for a child and bring them to me."_

The one who was on guard nodded and kicked Darrak in the foot, who woke with a sharp cry, grabbing for his weapons before realizing there was no danger. A few words were exchanged before he stood and ran into the forest, the others returning to their duties. It looked like most of the meat was almost done being prepared for storage, and the pelt was already being covered in salt. It would be a fine prize.

She could already tell that the four men with her had a new found respect for her again, and she was sure so would most of the others. It irritated her that this had been necessary at all; that she had needed to prove her strength and prowess, as though it had been easy to go back on her word, to betray the Sky People, to betray Clarke.

Leaning back onto the rock wall, she turned to look at the girl. Her mouth hung open, her face was dirty and there were deep rings of sleepless nights under her eyes, blood covered her clothing and hands, and it seemed to Lexa that she had grown thinner since she had last saw her. She wondered what tolls her win over the mountain had taken on the girl, why she had chosen to leave behind her people to wander the forest alone. Did she not know how dangerous that was? Was she attempting to court death?

The mother Fenrif had been larger than she had expected, a prime specimen of its kind. She had slaughtered its children, drawing it out of the darkness, its eyes full of bloodlust. It had come at her with such speed, she had not had time to prepare, to fully draw her sword. Knocking her to the ground, she had lost her grip, seen the sword fly off into the dark woods, its silver blade glinting red with the pups blood.

Her heart beating wildly, her hands shaking with adrenaline and fear, she had started crawling slowly away as the mother checked on her babies. All dead, all murdered for the sake of Lexa's control over her people. Five in total, five helpless pups. The Fenrif had let out a roar that shook the Commander's core; it had been full of anger, pain, hatred, loss. This was not some dumb beast.

It had turned on her again, grabbing her thigh at lightning speed before she could turn to run, dragging her back beneath her, its giant paw crushing her arm. She screamed out in pain. She was going to die, and the four grounders that stood hidden in the dark would return to her village and talk of their failed Commander, the coward who ran from the Mountain, the broken warrior.

She had stared into the Fenrif's eyes of fire, had seen the pure hatred, and all she could think of was Clarke. Not her people, not her honor, not even her fear, but Clarke. The last she would have seen of her was the look of betrayal and confusion in her clear blue eyes as she began to understand what Lexa had done. And then suddenly she had heard a whimper in the dark. Another pup! There had been six, not five!

The mother turned, its ears swiveling about, searching for the location of the last of its surviving offspring.

"Now!" Lexa had screamed, spears flying through the dark and embedding themselves in the Fenrif. It roared in pain, but instead of attacking Lexa, it had left her behind, ducking down to pick up its offspring before running into the forest.

Where it had found Clarke. Lexa remembered exactly how her heart had stopped as she had seen the girl illuminated in the clearing, standing face to face with the massive creature. Her beauty, her smile, Lexa's fear. Without hesitation, she had thrown her last spear, determined to protect Clarke, only later had she come to realize that Clarke had never been in any danger. That she had somehow made a connection with one of the wildest beasts that roamed these woods, and Lexa had stolen it from her.

Lexa rubbed her forehead. And yet somehow Clarke had still found it within herself to save Lexa. It had been a big risk for her to tell the other girl that it went against tradition to tend to her wounds, but she had needed to know if there was at least something left between the two of them, and this proved to her that not all was lost.

She spent the rest of the early morning hours nibbling on cured deer meat she had brought with her and waiting for Darrak to finish preparing the soft mash she intended to feed the pup. She knew it was hungry; it had whined at the smell of her food, but when she had offered it some it had taken it into its mouth and then spit it out.

She had just placed a small bowl of the mush on the cavern floor which the pup was greedily tearing into when she saw Clarke wake up. Her blue eyes opened slowly, and she craned her neck stiffly from side to side, seemingly trying to loosen a knot. Blinking a few times, Lexa watched as she took in her blood encrusted hands, and how her eyes widened.

She whipped her head around to where Lexa had previously been sleeping, before catching site of her awkwardly leaning against the cave entrance. For a moment the two of them gazed at each other, before Clarke broke the silence.

"You're alive."

"Apparently."

"Are your people going to view you as less than worthy since I tended your wounds?"

"No."

"No?"

"No." Lexa said again, smirking at the frustrated look on Clarke's face.

"Why not?"

"Do you want them to?"

"You told me they would!"

Lexa knew she should stop and tell the other girl the truth. Thank her for in fact saving her life, but she was enjoying this too much. She had not realized how much she had missed the other girl. "So I did."

For a moment Clarke looked at her uncomprehendingly, and then her eyes widened.

"You lied?"

Lexa didn't respond.

Shooting upward and storming over to her, Clarke glared at her, her hands balled into fists. "You _lied?_" Her voice was shaking with anger. "Are you a complete idiot? What were you… How _dare_ you!"

Clarke punched her shoulder.

"Ow!" Lexa hissed, rubbing her skin. She had bruises everywhere, and Clarke had managed to hit a rather tender spot. About to tease her for her behavior, the other girl started up again.

"You _lied_ to me?! You could have _died_! You were dying! You might still die! I- I- You _moron_. You absolute idiot. How dare you! How dare you lie to me again!"

Lexa was taken aback by the intensity of her gaze and tone, and how her entire body was shaking with something close to rage. She had not expected such a severe response from her simple teasing, and it took her a moment to respond.

"I trusted you would not let me die."

"That is not the point!" Clarke hissed. "You lied to me! Again!"

Lexa's eyes widened slightly in realization of what the other girl was getting at. "I did not lie to you at the mountain." She said slowly.

"Yes you did!"

She wished she could take a step back, but the rock wall pressing against her back hindered her. There were tears building in Clarke's eyes, and the shaking had gotten worse.

"You left me. You said we would fight the mountain together, and then you ran away! You made me pull that lever, kill all those people! It's your fault, not mine! You are the coward who ran away! You- You.."

Pain blossomed in Lexa's chest as she watched Clarke crumple to the ground, her hands twisting into her hair as she rocked back and forth, tears streaming down her face. The pup, noticing the girls distress, jumped over to her, sniffing at her face and whining, but when Clarke let out an almost inhumane wail, it jumped back in fright, hiding by Lexa's leg.

Clarke had begun whispering incoherently to herself, curled up into a ball, her face hidden in her arms which pressed against the floor. Slowly maneuvering herself closer to the ground while awkwardly keeping her leg outstretched, Lexa moved closer to the girl. She knew what was happening, it was the same thing that had happened in her tent in what seemed like all those nights ago. Clarke was breaking under the weight of the dead. Lexa knew the feeling.

"Clarke. Clarke." She said quietly but forcefully. "Clarke, listen to me. You must keep fighting. Do not give in to the faces of the dead. You are safe – the dark ones lie in your head."

Gingerly she placed a hand on the girl's back, and when she was not shoved off, she saddled closer, wrapping herself around Clarke as best she could and whispering quiet words of reassurances in her ear. Slowly, she felt the girl calm beneath her, the shaking subsiding with the quiet cries of pain she had heard muffled by her arms. The pup had also grown more courageous and not lay nestled by Clarke's head.

Eventually, she felt the girl shift beneath her, and she removed her weight from around her. Clarke sat up slowly, her face a mess of various fluids which she quickly cleaned off with her sleeve. The pup too sat up to look at her, cocking its head and letting out a little whelp, which made a small breathy laugh escape Clarke's pink lips. Those pink lips Lexa felt her eyes drawn to automatically. Those lips she had been allowed to kiss so briefly before the war, before things fell apart.

To distract herself from such enticing thoughts, she gazed at the young Fenrif, which had grabbed onto Clarke's sleeve and was pulling at it with soft growls.

"This pup saved my life." She began suddenly, neither of them looking at each other. "I killed all of its siblings, but missed this one. Its cried distracted the mother just as she was about to kill me." She sighed. "I do not enjoy the random killing of the beasts of the forest. It is bad blood to kill for sport. But I need my people to follow me, to believe that I can put rational thought before my feelings. But this pup does not know that. It does not understand that I slaughtered its entire family for selfish reasons, and so it still trusts me."

"What are you trying to say?" Clarke asked with a hoarse voice.

"Sometimes being unaware is a blessing. But not everyone has the luck to be allowed to live a naïve peaceful life, some of us have to bear the burden of death so others may life their lives in relative peace."

"I never asked for this."

"No one does."

Clarke sighed and rubbed her face with the hand currently not engaged in a tug of war with the young Fenrif. "I'm not coming back with you Lexa. I just… I can't. I can't face those people. At least not now.. Not yet."

Her eyes flashed up to meet Lexa's as she said those last to words, and she couldn't help but let a small hint of a smile play across her lips, but it was interlaced with the same perplexed sadness she had felt within her tent that day. What did those two words mean? Did they mean something different now than they had before?

Lexa felt unease at the idea of Clarke wandering these woods alone. Honestly, she was surprised Clarke had managed to survive without grievous injury thus far – but she knew by the look in her eyes that arguing with her or forcing her to do something against her will would only make things worse. Nodding, she reached for the left over White Tear leaf Darrak had brought her.

"If you insist, I will not stop you. But you must at least know how to take care of your new companion. When babies in our village are left without mother, we brew up a concoction of this leaf and some other form of food – usually some simple vegetable. For the pup, I would recommend rabbit. You can use all of it except the bones and fur. Grind it up into a paste while boiling these leaves in water, then pour the boiling water into a bowl and mix it into a thick brew. It will be a good enough substitute for the pup's mother's milk until it can eat raw meat."

Clarke nodded slowly, looking at the leaf with fascination.

"What's it called?" She asked.

"_Ittira_. Or a direct translation would be somewhere along the lines of White Tear."

Clarke nodded and stuck it into her jacket pocket, then sat watching the pup who had begun chasing an insect through the air. Lexa watched as well, marveling at the playfulness of the animal.

"What are you going to name her?"

"It's a her?" Clarke asked, surprised.

Lexa nodded with a repressed smirk, watching Clarke mull it over in her head. She traced her face with her eyes, wishing it could be with her fingertips, with her lips. The way her brows furrowed together, and her low jaw stuck out when she was making up her mind.

"I don't know. What would you name her?"

Lexa blinked, taken aback by the invitation to name the pup. For a moment, she hesitated, before saying: "Athena."

* * *

_Clarke… Stay here… I… My people (My crew)… Blood must have blood… Clarke…_


	11. Chapter 11

_Hello. I hope everyone's life is going somewhat according to plan. Shorter update today, but the next chapter is going to happen after a bit of a time gap I think, so there will be more stuff to write about. In the meantime, I hope this is enough for you all to get your fix. The formatting got a bit weird for some reason, so I hope that doesn't cause any difficulty for you all (Sorry if it does!) - my computer stopped working so I'm doing this on a strange other device with different software. Thank you to everyone who took the time to review, like, follow and whatever else, your input really helps and you all got brownie points and gold stars. ENJOY!_

**_None of the characters belong to me. The 100 belongs to CW._**

_DesireeStorm: I agree.. It's really annoying not to be able to have them kiss and make up yet. Because all I want to write is a hot and heavy make out session. But patience is a virtue. The gay will be strong with these two._

_SummerStormWar: Studio Ghibli fan?! Woot! Me too. Princess Mononoke is a badass, maybe I could make that happen. But youll have to wait and see. I definitely don't think it would happen as commonly as in Princess Mononoke, but that may change. I've been playing with the idea, so I'll definitely keep it in the back of my mind.  
PS. I'm happy it made you sad, but not in a creepy psycho sort of way, just in a my-writing-is-effecting-your-emotional-state sort of way. Which is an amazing compliment. Thanks!_

* * *

Lexa walked into camp with her head held high and shoulders pushed back – at least as far as she could given that she was leaning on a makeshift crutch and limping heavily. Her people stopped what they were doing to watch her lead the four others through the village, three of which were carrying some of the cured wolf meat and the remains of the carcass. They soon branched off, leaving her only with the man carrying the pelt. No one spoke, the wind swirled around silent bodies, carrying Lexa along with it.

Once the train of people had passed by, most villagers went about their work as usual, only a few followed the Commander to her final destination: Those who were young and curious, those in her higher command, and those who had whispered challenges of her leadership among the ranks. The difficulty was discerning who belonged to which group of the latter two.

Lexa caught sight of Indra out of the corner of her eye and felt unease twist in her gut. Indra had been her loyal second for many moons; she was as stubborn as she was dangerous, but she was also clever. If Indra had been the one whispering insubordination, it could easily be that such a simple display of strength would not due to silence them. Which was why she was going to the Mother of Eyes.

She did not live in the village with the rest of them, but amongst the trees. Even though Lexa was impatient to see her, she knew tradition, and knew she needed witnesses to the Mother's words, so she had taken the time to detour through the village. Now she headed back out, climbing past thick roots and troublesome rocks, gritting her teeth past the pain shooting up and down her leg with each movement.

The Mother of Eyes was an ancient creature of her lands. She had been around when the oldest man in her village had been a child, and she was revered but feared throughout her people. She was known to be able to speak to the Gods, to listen to the words of the earth, and to have visions of what was to come. Some even spoke of other powerful abilities that could not rationally be explained.

The Commander hated putting any truth behind these words, especially since she had met the Sky People, but even she could not explain how the Mother always seemed to know when she was needed, and would appear before the seeker from seemingly nowhere.

There she stood now, although Lexa had not heard or seen her approach, at the crest of the rise of the earth before them. She stood hunched over, a cloak of raven feathers and small bones covering the features of her shape and hanging low over her face. She stood still as rock, one wrinkled hand clutching a long staff made of an intricately twisted wood and metal; the other hanging limply by her side, the fingers moving quickly along a beaded necklace.

The Commander and those who followed came to a halt at the bottom of the incline. Discarding of her own staff, Lexa made a signal for the last man of her hunting trip to hand her the pelt. The weight of it made her leg burn as though on fire, but she made no sound. Clenching her jaw, she slowly made her way up the incline to face the woman, her leg almost giving out a few times.

_"Mother of Eyes, I come here seeking your counsel, and I offer you the pelt of a Fenrif in hopes you accept my plea."_ It irked Lexa that she was pleading for help from a crone in front of her people, but if this was what needed to be done to regain control over her people and to protect Clarke and the Sky People then so be it.

She could not even tell if the Mother was looking at her, so low was the hood pulled over her face, so bent her back. The crone said nothing, only slowly turned and began walking away from her. Indicating that her people should wait where they stood, Lexa awkwardly limped after the crooked woman.

They eventually came to a stop at a fallen tree, now covered in moss and mushrooms, where Mother of Eyes sat down, her hand never stopping its clicking of the beads. Lexa, whose breaths came heavily and who dripped in sweat, tried not to obviously collapse in relief next to her, placing the bound pelt between them. It was not yet finished and still required work to be turned into a pelt that would not begin rotting soon, but her people had started the process at least, so she hoped the old crone would not reject her.

They sat quietly for some time, as Lexa regained control of her labored breaths. She refused to beg again, she was in the right and she was a good leader. She did not need some old crone to give her words of wisdom on her duty as Commander.

_"Why are you here?"_ Mother of Eyes rasped.

Lexa looked at her coolly, attempting to control the irritation she felt so as not to cause offense. She was not foolish enough to do that.

_"My people need to believe I am their leader again. I killed a Fenrif to prove my strength, now I come to you to prove the Gods still believe my spirit worthy."_

_"Your spirit was chosen. I see it in your eyes. You have the spirit of the Commanders past and come, you are past and future. Your people are past and do not see the future. Great clouds roll over hills towards you."_

_"What do you say, crone? What does that mean?"_

_"I say only what I see."_

_"Will my people follow me?"_

_"That is not the question you need answering."_

Lexa's temper flared. _"I almost died to answer that question. You do not know what you speak of."_

_"I know what lays heavy on your mind. I know the mountain sighed with death that day. The star from the sky turned red and burned."_

Lexa stood up, ignoring her pain and gripping her sword. She knew who the crone spoke of, and it filled her with fury. How did she know of Clarke? Of her choice at the mountain?

_"How do you know about that?"_ She hissed.

_"The leaves and clouds filled with whispers of a tragedy. I simply listened."_

_"What do you know of Clarke? Why do you speak of her? She has nothing to do with this!"_

The crone did not respond immediately. For the first time since they had sat down, Lexa noticed that the forest had become completely quiet, Mother of Eyes had stopped moving the beads on the necklace. The feathers on her cloak ruffled with a wind Lexa did not feel against her skin, but shivers travelled up and down her back.

Shadows shifting on her face to reveal pale lips set amongst a thousand and one wrinkles, the Mother lifted her face slightly. And although Lexa could not see her eyes, she felt them boring into her, felt as though eyes were all around her, the hairs on the nape of her neck rising to attention.

_"You have lost your path Lexa. You have so stubbornly marched down one you no longer know where you stand. You are blind to your own and blind to the moon. Blind to death and blind to life. I have seen the paths of your future and some lead to greatness, to life. Others will lead you and your people to extinction. The clouds rumble, the ground shakes, the skies are on fire. You are alone."_

Lexa was shaking, her mouth hanging open, the blood drained from her face. She watched, her heart pounding as the crone stood, and, as though it weighed nothing, lifted the bound wolf's fur with one hand. She stood across from Lexa for one more moment, her voice rasping parting words.

_"The Gods have plans Lexa. Great and terrible plans. You will not survive alone, but your people will follow you. Your spirit is true. Doubt will be your downfall, one of many. We will meet again, not all is lost, but bare your heart and shield your back. The shadows twist even the purest souls."_

With that, she walked slowly away, making no sound as her cloak trailed across the forest floor. She left Lexa standing in her wake, shaking and staring after her, no sounds escaping her dry mouth. She stood there frozen, her mind whirling and clashing, as the sun began to set.

_"Heda.."_ She heard from her right.

Tearing her eyes away from an empty forest, she looked over to see Indra standing a few feet away, holding her branch she had used as a crutch to walk gingerly in her hands. She met her gaze impassively, neither of them saying anything for a bit longer still.

"_What did she say?_" Indra finally asked, breaking the silence between them.

"_She…_" Lexa cleared her throat, shaking her head slightly and breathing in deeply. Meeting Indra's gaze with a new feriocity, she continued. "_She said I was the true Commander, and that my people would follow me. Did you ever doubt?"_

Indra looked taken aback. _"I was the one who told you of the rumors."_

_"There was a time not long ago you would have brought me the tongue of any who dare speak ill against me."_

_"I did not think you would have approved of such drastic action.."_

_"Because you think me weak? A coward who ran from the mountain?"_ She spat, taking a step towards the other woman.

_"You did not run, Heda. You chose to save as many of your people's lives as possible, even over your word… over the sky girl."_

_"Clarke had nothing to do with my actions."_ Lexa snapped, grabbing the stick from her second's hands to relieve the strain on her burning leg.

_"Of course, Heda. What I meant was that it would have been easy to fight. But to go against what our people believe in, to take another path; that shows true strength and leadership."_

_"So you do not challenge my reign?"_

_"No, Heda. You are the leader of our people and I will follow you and only you."_

Lexa sighed, exhaustion hitting her with Indra's words of faith and sub-ordinance. With her at her side any whispers of rebellion would soon die down, especially with the crone's words; but the Mother of Eyes had also spoken of danger, of death and destruction. Such warnings could not go ignored.

_"Let us return to the village. There is much we must discuss."_

* * *

Clarke was taking her fourth break for the day. She was blaming it on the pup, but she knew in the back of her mind that she was growing tired and wary, and that she needed the break as much as the Athena.

_Athena._ Clarke absent mindedly watched the pup finish up its fourth meal with a greed that would lead one to think that it had not had anything to eat at all since the morning. Lexa had warned her that an animal that grew to be as large and powerful as the Fenrif would require a good storage of food, which is why they had spent most of the rest of the morning discussing various techniques to hunt and trap small animals, as well as various plants that could aid in the development of a child and as such hopefully do the same for Athena. Somehow they had managed to avoid all unspoken thoughts and question between them by focusing solely on the dopey animal who had, at the time, been attempting to eat an ant.

Before they had parted, Lexa had given her the rest of the cured meat she had brought with her for the hunt, not evening offering any of the Fenrif's - as though she already know the disgust Clarke felt at the sight of it - as well as the rest of the oddly colored gruel for the pup. She had also given her a warm, if rough, blanket, which she now had wrapped around herself, comforted by the weight of it on her shoulders. It smelled of sweet smoke and sweat, a scent she found surprisingly enticing.

Athena let out a yip, breaking her from her reverie. Remains of her dinner were smeared across her snout, even though she kept licking her chops in an attempt to get every last bit. Smiling at its struggles, Clarke opened up her warm cocoon and shifted her legs, creating the small nest she had first used for the pup in the cave; Athena did not even hesitate, springing towards her and crashing into her stomach before settling down in a small ball, smearing the remains of White Tear leaf and rabbit guts along her pants.

Surrounding the both of them with the blanket again, Clarke stared straight ahead at another tree trunk without really seeing. It would not have mattered even if she had been focusing on the trunk; she would have seen no difference from the one in front of her to any of the ones surrounding her. She was lost, and that was the issue.

Not only did she have to take care of herself now, but also a small pup which was easy prey. Right now it may be content to just sit beneath a tree with her, but what about once it got older? She would need to train it, to bond with it, and she had no idea how to do that. Images of it wandering off in the middle of the night to be eaten by one creature or another flashed before her eyes but she quickly pushed them aside.

She needed help, and she didn't know where to get it, didn't know what to ask for. The sun was beginning to set and she had spent the entire day wandering in no particular direction. At first she had been suspicious that perhaps Lexa had commanded someone to follow her and make sure she stayed safe, but after breaking out into numerous randomly placed sprints and doubling back, she had never seen a hint of anyone. She was on her own. That was what she had wanted - right?

There was also the issue of food. She had been keeping her eyes out for any game or edible plants, but she was becoming aware of just how loud and out of place she was in the forest. She kept stepping on twigs and tripping over invisible branches; she was sure she also smelt out of place. Even the pup, which could not have been older than a couple weeks, moved with more elegance than she did. So the only thing she could do was set up traps, although she had never needed to do that herself and had only learnt about it in theory. But that also meant doubling back during the day or finding a permanent place to stay, and currently all she saw were trees.

Which brought her back to her most current issue. Chilly winds were starting to pick up in the growing dark, pulling at her hair and travelling down into the crevices of her clothing, finding skin and raising the hairs on it. The night would be cold, and dangerous, and after her encounter with the Fenrif, as beautiful as it was, she was not stupid enough to believe that should she encounter another beast of the forest it would turn out so well. She needed a place to stay, protected from the elements and any creatures prowling the woods, and she didn't know where to find that.

She felt the tears begin to sting her eyes, the rawness of her throat, but she bit her lip. Crying would not help. She would not succumb to those feelings again. She needed to be strong, for herself and for the pup. Both of their lives depended on it. Pulling the blanket tighter around them and breathing in heavily, she pulled her gun out from her bag and settled in for a very, very long night.

* * *

_PS. I was looking at traffic stats the other day and saw that there are quite a few of you from different countries. If you're reading this/and or reviewing it and English isn't your first language, then I applaud you. It's pretty badass that you can read multiple languages, and thank you for putting in the time to read through my story. If you want, leave a comment in the review section in your __mother-tongue, and I'll see just how badly I can respond in your first language (aka Google Translate), because I'm definitely nowhere near was fluent as you guys are in English. Cheers!_


	12. Chapter 12

_So. I am, in fact, still alive. I understand if you thought I had been swallowed by a black hole. For a while there, I was (metaphorically speaking). I apologize, honestly and sincerely, specifically to everyone following and reviewing and just being pretty awesome and supportive in general. These past months have been overwhelming in so many ways that I can't even begin to explain them in this intro, or any other one for that matter. I want to thank you for your patience, and giving me time to sort things out. You, my readers, are wonderful people. I hope you enjoy this chapter, half of it was written in October of 2015, the other half tonight, so excuse any logic jumps – just shout them out to me if you see any and I'll fix them. You're input is the most valuable thing I'm getting out of this. And without further ado, or any more serious talk (because let's be honest, we just want to get to a part about them kissing right?), Enjoy!_

_PS. Everyone who responded to my shout out to different languages and just in general to the last chapter. I'm responding at the end of this chapter!_

_**The characters and rights to the show "The 100" belong to CW.**_

* * *

Lexa lay awake in bed staring through the hole in the roof of her tent, noting the stars gleam through. Her hand absentmindedly rubbed her leg, finger noting each individual stitch. They would need to be renewed soon, they should have in fact been renewed a day or two ago, but she had postponed it. Because every night, she lay awake, her mind moving like wind from thought to thought, and touching the stitches focused her scattered mind to a single thought: Clarke.

It did little to calm her anxiety, it actually made it worse. It had been 7 days since she had last seen Clarke, heard her voice, been lost in her eyes. Seven days since she had foolishly agreed to let her wander off into the forest on her own, with nothing but a gun, dagger, blanket, some food, and a pup. At the time it had seemed like the right choice, but six, now seven, sleepless nights were beginning to take their toll.

With her victorious return to camp, and with witnesses that the Mother of Eyes had not rejected her, stability had returned to her people. At first, she had been worried that there might be some who would try to take advantage of her injuries, yet none had stepped forward. She was almost certain Indra had reminded a few people of their place, but her second had never said anything.

Yet her lack of sleep was beginning to make her mind drag, she was becoming forgetful, unobservant. Her mind would wander from the task at hand, and often Indra would have to call it back. It was a dangerous game to be played – even if her second was loyal, if she felt that Lexa was not fit to lead their people, there would be whispers of change again. There was no room for weakness in their world.

Especially with the words of the crone. Lexa had sent scouts out in the directions of the sky, to survey the lands and report back if they saw anything suspicious; she had also sent two specifically to watch the Sky People's camp. She did not know how much animosity they felt towards her because of the mountain, or how they would respond to seeing her or her people again, so she had specifically instructed her scouts to stay out of sight.

She wondered what the Sky People were doing, what their plans were, if they had agreed to simply let Clarke wander off or if she had stolen away in the night. She wondered what Abby was thinking, or Bellamy, or Octavia, or Lincoln. What if they were in danger, would they expect her help, want it even? Would Clarke forgive her if she did not intervene to help stop her people's suffering?

Lexa let out a half groan, half sigh and sat up in bed. The world was still asleep, although the moon had begun its descent again. Everything was quiet, even the wind seemed to have come to a rest amongst the trees. Against her will, her eyes landed on the empty spot next to her, where Costia used to lay, softly breathing, her eyes fluttering open at Lexa's distress. No judgement, no fear, nothing but love.

And then she had disappeared, nothing but a rotting head returning to her. Her eyes and her lips and her soft skin giving away to flies and maggots. She had been almost unrecognizable, but Lexa had known – her soul had known. Screams had ripped from her throat, tears streaming down her face. She had torn at her hair and at her skin, thrashing and beating at anything or anyone that came near. The eyes upon her had meant nothing to her, her command had meant nothing to her, her people, her life – all useless, all suffering without Costia.

It had taken months of anguish before she had been able to sleep through the night again, before the pain had turned into a numbness right in the center of her ever-beating heart. And now again, she lay awake at night, her heart and mind warring against each other. Her soul was not focused, but tore at her body – she wanted to ride out and find Clarke, bring her back to safety. But she knew how her people would react, so many of them thought of her as a weakness, her people as a threat.

Letting out a disgusted sound, Lexa stood, wincing as her stiff muscle stretched and pulled at the stitches. She splashed some water onto her face, shivering as droplets tricked down her spine, before limping over to where she had absent-mindedly thrown her sword as she had laid down for another night of attempted sleep. She had not taken the time to sharpen it recently, and she had noticed a few days ago that the edge dulled and the metal was beginning to rust.

Settling down onto a stump, she unpacked the materials needed, and slowly began to work the metal. The scrape of metal against stone was always jarring at first, a foreign sound in a soft world, but soon with repetition came a lull. The metal began to sing its own strange song, rising and falling as she ran her hand along the length of the sword; her breathing matching up with its voice.

She remembered Anya showing her how to take care of her weapons and armor, how they would sit outside of the business of the village and the people, away from the stares and the whispers, and quietly sharpen and polish the metal they carried with them. People knew never to approach them unless danger was imminent, less they wanted to be stared down by Anya – her gaze had always been one of the most intimidating things about her. Even after spending so much time with her, Lexa had found it difficult to read her face.

Anya had been so different from her own mother; she could recall her laugh, care free and full of joy at the simple things in life, always humming some strange new tune. Her mother had not been a fighter, but she would viciously defend those she loved. All of this Lexa knew, but try as she might, she could no longer recall her face – only Anya's. She had always reminded her as a young girl that the Commander's spirit chose another host based on strength and fortitude, and that as the chosen one she could no longer have blood ties. Her people as a whole were her family.

Anya had never approved of Costia, in fact, many of her people had muttered under her breath when they began to realize that the girl had not just been there to warm her bed at night. A Commander was not supposed to be bound by anyone or anything, but dedicate his or her life to the clan. She thought the only reason her people had begrudgingly accepted the relationship was because it had not affected Lexa's leadership abilities, and also because Costia was a girl – they could not procreate.

In the history of her clan, there had only been three Commanders who had conceived children, and this much to the outrage of her people. It was believed that when two people had a child, their souls meshed, and pieces of each were given to the baby. For the common folk, this had no consequences, in fact, it was beneficial to the clan as a whole, as the family unit was strengthened with each soul tied together – however, for a Commander, it was a different story.

The Commander's spirit needed to be whole, to remain strong to continue to be able to search for the next leader of their people once the old one passed away. If there was a child that possessed part of the Commander's spirit from birth though, the spirit would not be able to leave that child behind, and would be chained to it, even if it was not the rightful new Commander. Yet in their culture one did not kill children, they were too precious for their continued survival, so a more twisted way was thought up to release the Commander's spirit from the false bond.

Only the last of the three children's story had survived memory, and Lexa hated the tale, but she still wondered how much truth hid behind its words. It was often told around the fire at night, or as a reminder to naughty children – but to her it was a constant reminder of the limitations of her life as Commander. Which was irrational she knew, she had never felt a deep sexual attraction to a man, so how would she have a child? Why would she even want a child? Especially after the tales of-

Her hand slipped, her palm sliding along the now sharp blade, bright red blood splattering across the metal. Letting out a sharp gasp and a swear, she placed her sword on the ground next to her before quickly wrapping up her palm in the first cloth she could find. Cursing, she reprimanded herself. What had Anya always said? Never forget the sword, never let your emotions or thoughts get away from you when you are facing shining metal.

Lexa slumped back down onto the stump, light leaning her head against the hide wall behind her and closing her eyes, inhaling and exhaling loudly. Her broken arm throbbed painfully with each heartbeat. She was so tired; so tired of what her life had become, of constantly fighting, of constantly being afraid, anxious, constantly looking over her shoulder and worrying who she was going to lose next. She was tired of being alone, of carrying all the responsibility, of always being strong, infallible, untouchable. Gods, how she wanted to be touched, to just feel the warmth of another body against her own.

Slowly, tears began to form underneath her eyelids, and for a heartbeat she fought them. But then the first one fell, tracking a line down her cheek, and then a second, then a third; and before she knew it, she was crying. Quietly, without moving, but the tears were falling, and the knot in her gut began to loosen ever so slightly.

* * *

Clarke was sitting against a tree, cross-legged, the pup snuggly sleeping in her lap. A week ago she had been doing the same thing, except against a different tree, with less injuries, a stomach that was not gnawing at her with hunger, and eyes that did not feel like rocks, heavy with exhaustion. She had run out of food three days ago, both for her and the pup, when, in the middle of the night, she had awoken from a light doze to the rumbling earth.

At first, she had thought she was dreaming, her eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness, and her senses slow to return to her sleep deprived body. However, once Athena had suddenly jolted upright, her ears alert, Clarke had known something was coming. Lifting the pup with one arm and tightening her grip on her gun, she had squinted into the darkness, unsure of what she was about to face.

There was no preamble, no warning. Suddenly, they had been upon the two of them: A herd of wild boars. Yet these were as tall as horses, and came barreling through the trees, sharp tusks flaring in the darkness, splintering the bark of trees as they flew passed them. For a moment, Clarke had stood frozen in the darkness, shocked at the sudden charge, yet when one of the animals had drawn so closely by her that its flank slammed into her, sending her flying to the ground, her gun scattering off into the dark, her heart had jumpstarted.

She had jumped up, Athena still pressed closely to her chest, and began running, searching for cover, as the boars flew through the dark around her. The pup had been letting out terrified yips as Clarke struggled to see the world around her, constantly stumbling over roots and small rocks, running into trees and branches. The world around her had roared with the hooves of the beasts, their squeals piercing the darkness; she had felt their hot breath on her back, their stench filling up her nose.

It had only been due to luck that she had survived, stumbling upon a large rock and scrambling onto it, huddling around a shivering Athena as the heard roared passed her. She spent the entire rest of the night sleepless, looking all around once the herd had disappeared, expecting some other terror of the night to find her perched like bait on the rock. Once the morning had come, she had attempted to find her bag, but had been unsuccessful. She had been left only with Lexa's blanket and the dagger on her hip.

Numerous other smaller injuries had occurred since that night; she was sure some of her cuts had become infected and needed medical attention lest they got worse, and she might have sprained her ankle as well. In addition, the fact that she had failed at providing any food for the pup gnawed at her with guilt stronger than her own hunger. She was getting weaker by the day, and so was Athena.

She sighed, and closed her eyes, trying to focus her mind past her sore body and hunger, attempting to figure out what to do next. Yet as soon as they shut, faces began pouring in. Kind faces, cruel faces, dead faces, accusing faces. Her mother, Octavia, Finn, Raven, Bellamy, Kane. Lexa, Indra, her father, the corpses from the mountain, Maya. So many faces. So much death.

Would this be her life? As the Ark had begun to shut down, hundreds had died as they had struggled to find a solution. Then the Earth had been found to be habitable and their hope, the possibilities of their lives had grown exponentially, but death had followed all of them down to the ground, taking without mercy. She had tried, tried so hard to just give their people a decent chance at life. Just like what her father would have wanted.

She lightly banged her head against the tree trunk she leaned against, frustrated and overwhelmed by the memories, her eyes flashing open. Shivers wracked through her body, but at this point she no longer even noticed them, they had become a regular part of her morning within the past week. The sun was just starting to rise, a chilly fog sprawled out just above the forest floor reflecting golden light. The forest was just waking up, a light breeze swinging through the tree tops, ruffling the feathers of slumbering bird who sang with delight as the light enveloped them.

Breathing in slowly through her nose, Clarke filled herself with the smells of the forest. The crisp air, the dark moist earth, dry bark and sweet sap, hints of smoke- wait. Her eyebrows pulling together, she inhaled more deeply, focusing on the smell of burning wood that hovered around the edges of her senses. Not just hovered, this was not an illusion, she was certain it was there. But where was there exactly? And was whoever had lit the fire a friend or foe?

For a moment, Clarke paused, and a ludicrous thought crossed her mind: Lexa. What if Lexa was following her, waiting in the woods for her? It seemed like something she would do. Clarke could perfectly picture the smirk sitting on the Commanders face as she finally stumbled upon her, as though she was impressed it had taken her so long to figure it out. But with this thought also immediately came the conflicting memory of the mountain, and pain and betrayal washed over her. It would not be Lexa.

Stiffly standing, she took a moment to lean against the tree and let the black spots swimming before her eyes clear. She was in desperate need of food. She was also in desperate need of the knowledge to hunt food. Letting Athena hop off her arm onto the ground, she marveled at the speed with which the pup grew; already she curiously explored the world ahead of them, getting lost chasing butterflies and bugs through the air. She never seemed to share Clarke's concerns – this may be because she had the tendency to eat dirt and beetles.

Straightening herself, Clarke began walking into the wind, breathing deeply with each step. Athena padded through the forest next to her, the fog swirling around her small body, almost swallowing her whole at times. Her ears and tail were alert, and Clarke knew the pup could smell the smoke as well. After a few minutes of blindly walked through the illuminated fog, she saw a pinpoint of light in the distance. She could smell cooking meat, and her stomach growled loudly, urging her to hurry; but her mind told her to slow down, her hand grasping the dagger at her side. About to bend down to grasp Athena, the pup suddenly bolted towards the light, disappearing into the fog.

"Athena!" She hissed, her body jolting forward, her own concerns no longer important.

The light ahead of her became brighter and brighter until suddenly the fog cleared and she found herself standing in front of a small fire, a spit with what looked to be rabbit sizzling over the flames. Her eyes instantly found a darkly coated figure sitting cross legged on the ground before the fire, Athena's small black body frozen before her, one paw in the air, her head tilted quizzically to the side.

Clarke slowly moved closer to the fire, tightly gripping the dagger in her hand, keeping her eyes on the hooded figure. The cloak was made out of black feathers and small bones, and a twisted cane lay across the figures lap. Athena backed up as Clarke got close enough, bumping into her shins with her butt before freezing again, her nose twitching. The smell of roasting meet and fat swirled around her, and her stomach let out a growl more reminiscent of a roar.

The figure jumped, as though being suddenly woken, and a gnarly, thin hand flashed forward, gripping the stick and swinging it around wildly in the direction of Clarke. The head jerked upwards, the dark hood slipping back to reveal a face so covered in wrinkles it was hard to see where one started and another began. Eyes covered in a sheen as white as snow searched blindly ahead, strands of gray hair hanging before them.

"_Ho-der?!_" The figure croaked.

Clarke's shoulders relaxed somewhat, although the grip on her dagger did not. Even if an old woman could not be that dangerous, perhaps she was not alone.

"I do not mean you any harm." Clarke said firmly.

Like a hawk, the head swiveled around, blind eyes zeroing in on the direction of her voice. The swinging staff came to a halt pointing at her, held steady by one hand, the other hidden in the folds of the cloak. Athena took a few tentative steps forward, her nose lightly bumping the cane.

The old woman stood, surprisingly swiftly for someone of her age, a dagger coming out from beneath the dark feathers. Her hood had fallen completely off, revealing her features in more detail: a full head of long knotted grey hair, a large crooked nose, and two deep scars running diagonally from just below each cheek bone up through the eye and meeting in the center of her forehead.

"Come no closer!" She growled. She slashed the knife through the air, jabbing it in Clarke's direction a few times for good measure.

"I haven't moved. That was my…" Pet seemed the wrong use to use for Athena. "That was the dog."

The woman paused, a quizzical look passing across her face. "Dog?"

"Yes. She's very young still. Quite small. She's sniffing at your cloak right now actually." Clarke watched the woman very carefully, ready to tackle her should she seem to make an attempt on harming Athena.

Instead, the old woman sat very slowly, the knife disappearing back within the feathers; her empty hand stretching out towards the forest floor, a bit away from where the pup stood. Hesitantly, Athena edged closer, inhaling the woman's scent with pure attentiveness. Eventually, she gently nudged the woman's hand, who then proceeded to simply scoop up the pup and place her on her lap, scratching Athena's ear. Clarke still stood rooted in the spot, her stomach now letting out a continuous growl, urging her to dig into the sizzling rabbit.

"Gods, sit, girl. Eat. You attract beasts with that sound!" The woman suddenly snapped, scooting to the side and patting the small space beside her.

Clarke surprised herself by how easily she walked over and plopped down next to a potentially nefarious woman; but at this point all she wanted was to eat. She was practically drooling. Once she had taken the stake out of the flames, it took almost all of her will power not to directly bite into the steaming meat; she could see that the rabbit had Athena's full attention as well.

Using her dagger, she cut a sliver off, and after blowing on it for a bit, offered it to Athena. Before the pup could accept, the woman slapped her hand away – or more aptly said, bumped her arm away with her own.

"What are you doing?"

"Feeding the dog! She's starving just as much as I am."

The woman let out a snort. Staring straight ahead, a firm grip on Athena who was trying desperately to get at the small sliver of food, she muttered something under her breath.

"What?"

"No pup of any dog I have ever saw was this big, or had this muscle mass at a young age. This is a Fenrif."

Clarke simply stared at the woman, her grip on the dagger tightening again. Lexa and her people considered Fenrifs to be extremely dangerous and better off dead, if this woman was alike, Clarke would have to act quickly.

"Fenrifs can be dangerous. But they are pack beasts. You want to raise this? Then you must show leadership."

"What do you mean?" She asked slowly.

"You must be pack leader. Pack leader always eats first."

"That's stupid. It's just a pup – it's hungry!" Clarke retorted with a tinge of desperation as Athena let out a whine.

"Small now… Beast after. You treat it well, it loves you. You treat it like pack, it follow you. You can do two. Eat first. Then feed the... pup." She said the last word in a choked way, as though she had never heard it before. In fact, most of the words she spoke were heavy with the Trigedasleng accent, making it hard for Clarke to understand what she was saying at times.

But she got the message, and she mulled it over, it made sense. If she intended to keep Athena, she needed to be able to control her. She needed to be able to trust that when she turned her back on a wolf-beast which could easily eat her in two bites that she would still listen to Clarke. That meant maintaining dominance, leading them, taking care of her – that meant doing something that seemed cruel, but in the long run would help both of them. Clarke would trust a Fenrif, and in return the Fenrif would never be hunted.

She bit the rabbit off of her dagger, and almost moaned. Food had never tasted this good before. Rabidly, she dug into the rest of the cooled off rabbit, juices dripping down her chin and smearing across her face. She was not even aware of Athena watching her every move silently, did not care about the strange old woman sitting next to her, swaying back and forth in the wind, all that mattered was filling the cavernous hole where her stomach used to sit.

When she had eaten her fill, about one third of the rabbits flesh still remained. Wiping her face with her dirty sleeve, she placed the carcass at her feet, and glanced up at the woman's face. Her eyes were closed, but she still swayed softly, two fingers moving up and down Athena's back.

"Can I feed Athena now?"

"Athena?"

"The pup."

A short nod was the only answer she got, and the woman placed the pup on the ground. Instantly, the young animal viciously tore into the remains, grabbing onto strips of meat and shaking its head to loosen them from the rest. For the first time since Clarke had gotten her, she saw the beast within Athena and a small seed of doubt settled itself within her mind. Would she really be able to control such a massive animal, one so elegantly equipped to hunt and kill?

"The pup is named Athena?" The old woman suddenly asked.

"Yes."

"What is your name?"

"Clarke."

The woman turned her body slightly so that she was facing her, and Clarke got her fist up close look at the eyes. What she saw raised the hairs on the back of her neck: the iris' and pupils were nowhere to be found. What she had originally taken to be some sort of illness connected to old age, now seemed to her some terrible birth defect. They were nothing but white orbs in a skull – except for where the scars crossed over them; there Clarke saw thick black lines cross the white.

"I want to see you." The woman lifted her hands between them, fingers outstretched towards Clarke's face, who jerked backwards at the sudden proximity to the other woman's skin. "Can I?" She asked, moving her hands slightly closer to Clarke's face.

For a moment, she did not respond, her eyes still caught on the shocking look of the older woman's eyes; but finally she moved back forward and nodded, before realizing that would not help in this scenario.

"Yes."

The fingers that touched her were freezing, and an involuntary shiver ran down Clarke's spine. They trailed along her temple, tangling momentarily with her greasy, unkempt hair, before moving downwards gently, passing her brow and forcing her to close her eyes as they passed over the eyelids. It felt as though they were leaving trails of cold water trickling down her skin wherever they touched, and Clarke could not make up her mind on whether it was a pleasant sensation or not.

The woman took her time; she felt Clarke's nose, and traced it down to her lips, following those to her chin and up her jawline to her ears. From there, they hovered down her neck, coming to a halt at her collarbones, which she noticed suddenly were much more prominent after only one week in the woods. Clarke could feel her heart thudding in her chest, her nerves running wild beneath this woman's touch, her brain sending her signals to get up and run – or fight – anything but letting her place her hands on her own skin. However, her gut was calm, her gut was telling her to wait it out and see what happened.

Finally, the fingers lifted off of her skin, and Clarke opened her eyes to stare at the old woman. Athena had finished tearing the meat off of the carcass, and was now contently chewing on the bones, creating a jarring sound in the stillness of the morning forest. The stillness that was not broken by the woman, who sat hunched, hands in lap, staring off… somewhere.

"What's your name?" Clarke asked, impatient for the woman to tell her something.

"I have names. More than one. Names you cannot say."

"Well… what can I call you then?"

"What you want."

"Anything?"

"Yes."

A few inappropriate words flashed through Clarke's head as her irritation flared, but she breathed in deeply and furrowed her brow. It would not be a good idea to insult the only possibly friendly human she had met since beginning her lonesome walk through the woods. But she was also blanking on actual names to use.

"I don't have one."

"No name?"

"No. You have a name. Loads apparently. If you don't want to tell me your name, then that's fine. I'll make due."

For a split second, a look that resembled surprise passed over the old woman's face, quickly followed by something more akin to approval.

"Why are you in the woods?"

Such a simple question for such a complicated answer. There were many reasons as to why she had walked away from the gates of the camp that day, but those reasons only caught her in more questions about what she was doing, who she was, what she wanted, who she could trust, if she could trust, if she could forgive.

"I needed to think." Clarke finally answered in a hushed voice, looking down at Athena, who had fallen asleep next to the rabbits carcass, one paw resting in its empty ribcage. It was oddly horrific and endearing all at once.

"How long?"

"How long have I been in the woods?"

"Yes."

"A week."

"A week is long but short. You still think?"

"I don't think I've even started." Clarke muttered, exhaustion grinding against her vocal chords and making her words shake and crack as she spoke them.

"You need sleep. Good sleep."

Clarke let out a bitter laugh. The woman said it as though it were so easy, as though sleeping were simply closing one's eyes and drifting off. Instead, it was like dying, each and every night, and being born again to freezing flames. She also laughed because she was beginning to suspect she was hallucinating. Honestly, what were the chances of running into a kind old woman roasting a rabbit in the middle of the forest? In the middle of this forest? Only death happened here.

"Why do you laugh?"

"Because I'm going crazy." Clarke said, another high pitched laugh escaping her chapped lips.

"Crazy?" The woman repeated, sounding uncertain.

"Yes. Crazy. Insane. Not quite there in the head. Delusional."

"You think you are dreaming with open eyes."

"I guess that's another way to put it, yes."

"You are not."

"Of course you would say that. You're one of them." Clarke felt giddy, blood rushing through her head. She was having a hard time focusing on the woman in front of her, at times she seemed to morph into something much larger than a frail old woman.

"One of them?"

"One of my- You know… The crazy."

"I am not. You need sleep. Good sleep."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Clarke muttered. She tried to rub her eyes, but her arm wouldn't respond. Somewhere in the back of her mind, something clicked, and her gut, which had before been so confident, sank. "What did you do to me?"

The woman did not respond, her white eyes staring at her, the black scars spreading across them turning them deep black. The black spread, engulfing the world around Clarke, who fell, heavy and cold, to the ground.

* * *

_Thank you to everyone reading this, following the story, liking the story and most of all reviewing it. All those months ago, way back in 2015, I asked for people to respond in their mothertongue. And I spazzed out when I read all the languages (I guessed what most of them were...although understanding what you were saying was usually left up to translator). So because you were all great, I decided to try to respond to all of you (with a translator so be forewarned). I'm sorry if I missed you, that was an accident, and if you leave another comment, I'll probably see you and write something back._

_We had responses in: __Portuguese, __French, __German, __Dutch, __Swedish, __Icelandic, __Spanish, __Finnish - isn't that amazing?!_

_: You had the shortest wait of all, lucky you I guess! Definitely still writing, however slowly._

_**debssofs**: Espero que a minha atualização lenta não perdê-lo como um leitor . Agradeço a todos que toma o tempo para ler o meu trabalho, especialmente aqueles que não falam Inglês como sua primeira língua ._

_**SummerStormWar**: You're very kind. Thank you! I love people pointing out what specifically they like, it's very helpful. I'm sorry (and I've said this so many times before but I feel really guilty) that this update took so long, and thanks for being patient. PS. SPIRITED AWAY! I love that movie. That was my first Ghibli experience too! Still my favorite one, although Mononoke comes pretty close. _

_**Ajel**: Okei. Ihan aluksi. Suomi . Mahtava. Olen varmatranlator ei tee sille oikeutta . Mutta oletbadass , vain koska puhut sitä . Myös kääntäjä perseestä , joten en saanut kaikki , mitä sanoitte , mutta mielestäni olen ymmärtänyt irti. Ja perustuu pois kuinka kauan se kestää minua päivittämääntarina , kyllä tämä on hirveän pitkä , mutta toivottavasti sen arvoista . Minulla on tulevaisuuden suunnitelmia , mutta mielestäni asiat eivät mene pahasti vialla ensin . Kiitos käsittelyssä !_

_**Alicezoeyblack**: Sólo quiero decir que estoy muy impresionado por la gente como usted que hablan y leen lenguas distintas a la suya tan bien . No sé si yo estaría dispuesto a poner en el tiempo . El sombrero ante usted._

_**Careabtsomething**: No promises, but the woods woman is going to be fun._

_**AntoniaKriti**: Obrigado, o lobo parece ser um grande favorito ._

_**Naruto20**: Þú hefur ekki hugmynd um hávaða tilbeiðslu sem kom út úr munni mínum þegar ég áttaði þú varst frá Íslandi . Ég hef alltaf langað til að heimsækja , og ég missti tækifæri fyrir þetta sumar . Það er svo flott að þú ert að lesa verk mín !_

_**Twibe**: Tack. Jag uppskattar verkligen komplimang._

_: Dank u zo veel voor het geduldig wachten . Ik moet echt lezers zoals jij. Ik ben erg volatiel als het gaat om het in de creatieve stemmingen. En uw wens wordt vervuld ... Athena gaat om een grote karakter als ze oud genoeg zijn om één te spelen ._

_**Talitha2**: Also für dich brauch ich kein translator. Deutsch ist meine Zweitsprache! Schön es mal wieder schrieben/reden zu können. Aber zuerst entschuldige ich mich, dass es so lange gebraucht hat zurückzuschrieben, weil dein Feedback ist sehr detailliert und hilfreich - die nehme ich immer gern entgegen! Griechische Mythologie (oder auch vielleicht sonstige Arten - Fenrif hast du gut erkannt, habe ich auch extra offensichtlich machen wollen - das kommt aber später dann mal dazu) wird sicher wieder dabei sein (Kennst du die Geschichte von "Atlas"?)... Wenn du sonstiges Feedback hast, würde ich es gerne hören! Schöne Grüsse aus der USA._

_**Brookey20**: J'adore les loups aussi. Je parle un petit peut français, mais je le comprend mieux comme ecrire... comme tu peut voire. Tu ne peut pas ..."worry" de fauts. Tu parles et lit en anglais! C'est encroyable et super! (Cette passage est completement sans Google Translate! WOOT!)_

_**Pedro Boncompagni**: Isso provavelmente vai ser um traço comum entre minhas respostas , mas eu sinto muito que você teve que esperar tanto tempo para o próximo capítulo. Eu também quero dizer que eu achar que é realmente impressionante que você leia este ! E eu espero que você entenda a minha resposta porque o Google Translate é notoriamente ruim em traduzir ._


	13. Chapter 13

_I'm sorry this is a shorter update after a longer wait. I'm running into some creative bumps. But how could I not when I'm comparing my work to the beauty of season 3. It's so amazingly written. Thanks to everyone who is following and liking and reading and interacting with this story, I appreciate all of you. Please leave a comment if you have an opinion on this, I take all of them into account as I move forward. The more comments, the better my writing - hopefully. Enjoy!_

* * *

"_Heda_."

Lexa looked up, pulling her distracted mind back to the present. Indra had entered her tent and now stood at attention some feet away from her, staring pointedly at the healer who was finishing up with the new bandaging for Lexa's injuries. Lexa had seen the disapproving look in the healer's eyes as she had taken out the old thread and replaced, taking plenty of time to smear disinfecting herbs on the slightly inflamed wound. She had also taken some time to look at Lexa's arm, although Clarke's work needed little improvement on that front. It would heal well and allow her full use the healer had assured her.

_"Leave us."_ Lexa muttered to the woman, who inclined her head and quickly moved out of the tent, leaving it to the Commander to finish bandaging her fresh hand wound.

She stood once she had knotted it, turning her back on her general to clothe herself properly again. Indra waited in tense silence as she did, her eyes boring into the back of her neck. Watching her every move, analyzing her every decision, judging her strength.

"_What is it, Indra?" _Lexa finally snapped, swiveling around with her shoulder armor partially strapped on. She felt the blood rush to her face and immediately regretted the confrontational tone and stance she had taken.

"_Nothing, Heda."_

_"Do not hide your thoughts from me. Speak freely."_

Indra showed a flash of hesitation, her eyes falling to the floor for a second. However, she met the Commander's eyes again before continuing.

"_Rumors keep spreading."_

_"About what?"_

_"About you. About Clarke. About the mountain. About your abilities…"_

_"I thought I put those rumors to rest when I killed the Fenrif alone and the Mother of Eyes spoke for my spirit." _Lexa growled, her anger flashing as she tightened her hand around the hilt of her sword.

_"This is not as simple as a lost battle. Your skills as a warrior were never questioned."_

_"Then what?"_

Indra did not pause this time, but took a step forward, her own hand landing on her sword. Lexa's eyes narrowed and she shifted her feet as the tension between them spiked.

"_That day on the mountain you went back on your word as the Commander. Every clan swore to go into battle for you, swore to uphold peace, and yet you broke your allegiance with the Sky People. You took the cowards route, making a pact with the mountain demons and leaving your supposed allies to fend for themselves. Your word means nothing. And as for Clarke…"_

_"Do not speak of her!" _Lexa snarled, drawing her sword with sung with glee as it was unleashed, singing for blood with her own heart.

Indra drew her own a split second after Lexa, holding it defensively in front of herself as she continued. "_I have defended you and stood by you. I have believed in you. And because of this I will tell you what you refuse to acknowledge yourself. The day you betrayed Clarke, you betrayed yourself. Your spirit has been poisoned by it, and not only your people are noticing."_

_"Clarke has nothing to do with this!"_

_"Clarke has everything to do with this! Clarke is who made the allegiance with the sky people possible, Clarke is the one you think of when you should be more worried about your own people, and Clarke is Wanheda."_

The blood ran out of Lexa's face and her mouth went dry. The fire that had been soaring through her body before, begging her to unleash the emotional turmoil raging throughout her unto Indra died down just as quickly as it had flared. If Clarke was Wanheda…

"_The allegiance of the clans is broken, and it is only a matter of time before the Ice Nation takes advantage of your current distraction. The scouts you sent out have returned: Our closest clans have disappeared deep into their territories, and the Ice Nation broils with singing metal. And _as for Clarke…" Indra paused, raising her eyebrows as she stressed the words "_the clans are hunting her."_

* * *

Clarke awoke with a gasp and a pounding headache, sweat coating her entire body and her heart pounding wildly. For a moment, all she saw was blackness, her eyes struggling to find some type of structure in the dark. It took her a moment to realize that some sort of thick cloth was draped over her forehead, laying heavy on her feverish skin.

Lifting her arm up to her face to tear it up was much more painful than it should have been, electricity shooting up her nerves and jolting down her spine. She let out a hiss and let it fall back to her side still clutching the rag, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the sudden light.

For a while, she looked without comprehending at the ceiling above her, her sluggish mind fighting against webs to think of the words and memories to explain where she was and why she felt like her body was liquefying itself. The roof of the hut… or was it not a hut? Dark tree branches twisted and gnarled with time were side by side with metal slabs and tarps of various kind. Light filtered in through the air in small pockets, streaming to a ground made up of similar things, except for the addition of dirt and rock patches.

The place smelled of the forest, but also smelled of the ark: oils and metals mixing haphazardly with the purer smell of leaves and dirt. There were new, different smells as well, that tingled her nose and alternatingly made her mouth water and her stomach heave: spices - some sweet, some not – something that smelled of disinfectant, alcoholic, something else that smelt of rotting flesh. Jars and knick-knacks were stuffed into every nook and cranny, hanging from the ceiling, and half hidden amongst the braches, leaves, and stones. She couldn't identify what half of them were.

Sitting up slowly, she was surprised to find all of her injuries taken care of, some bandaged, some simply covered in a green paste; her ankle had a contraption around it that reminded her of a cast, but allowed for more movement, made of thin twigs and what looked to be vine. This would have put her more at ease if it was not for her other symptoms: fiery skin, dry mouth, nausea, pounding ache in her head and joints, dizziness – all things she had not had before.

For a moment, she sat still, staring at the tarp that hung an arm's length away from her, separating her small alcove from whatever lay beyond. Even past the ringing in her ears, she could hear the sounds of clinking, someone shuffling about, light muttering. It hit her suddenly, like lightning. Athena. She looked down at her hand, her left had that had been resting on fur, fur she thought to have been the pups until something registered in her head: It wasn't warm. It wasn't moving. It wasn't breathing.

Her hand was resting in the fur of a thick hide that lay on her small cot. This realization that she had not seen or heard the animal for who knows how long propelled her forward past the tarp and into a far larger room, but one still cramped full of odds and ends. Her firsts were balled and ready to fight, to find Athena and save her from the strange woman in the woods.

What she found however was Athena laying happily on a small table, her leg kicking in the air as the old crone scratched her soft belly. The floor let out an odd creak beneath her feet suddenly, and both Athena and the woman looked at her; Athena bounded upwards, knocking multiple things off of the table, one of which shattered on the floor. She ran towards the edge of the table – which took only two steps – before halting at the height and letting out a series of yips, her tail wagging happily.

"You are up. Good."

Clarke did not lower her fists, taking careful steps forward, she ran a quick glance over the animal to make sure it was uninjured, before glaring at the white globes of the crone. Her scars as black as ever, and her face impassive, she cocked her head to the side as if listening. Athena, suddenly impatient with Clarke's slow movements, leapt at her, trusting fully and completely that Clarke would catch her.

She did, but it took her by surprise, pushing her backward and demanding her full attention. In the time it took for Athena to leap off the table and settle safely in Clarke's arms, the crone had stood, rounded the table, and stood now directly in front of her. She had managed to do this elegantly, quietly, without a rustle of the cloak that veiled her body, and without Clarke having time to set up a defensive stance. Instead she stood frozen in the spot under the old woman's eyes, clutching Athena tighter to her and trying to take comfort in the rapid heartbeat.

"You are a…" The woman hesitated, her face contorting as if clawing at some escaping word. "..fool." She said the 'o's as though they were high 'u's.

Clarke did not answer. She just continued to stare at the endless wrinkles engraved on the woman's face. Unsure of what to do, of what was happening, of where she was – freezing seemed at that moment the only option she had left.

"You trust an old woman in the forest. A person you do not know. Fool."

The woman shook her head and swung around again, walking over to a small fireplace in surrounded by a knot of roots, where a small pot hung over a fire. Clarke took the moment to step around the other side of the table, putting it between them, her eyes swinging wildly around the room, trying to find the way out. It seemed like there wasn't one; the space she was in made up a rough circle, and everywhere she looked she saw roots, metal, or dirt.

"Eat." The woman suddenly said, placing a bowl of thick brew on the lopsided table.

Although Clarke's stomach let out a growl, she made no move to accept the food.

"You just told me not to trust you."

"No. It is foolish to trust a person you do not know. Not me."

"I don't know you. And last time I ate something you gave me, I passed out. What did you do to the food?" Clarke growled, her irritation flaring.

"This food? Nothing." The crone shrugged, pouring herself a bowl with an old discolored spoon before sitting at the table and taking a large bite of the stew.

Clarke was not buying it. "What about the other food in the forest then? What did you do to that?"

"Poison."

"What?" The blood drained from her face and she had to clutch the back of a chair with one hand. Athena whined and licked her chin, sensing her distress.

"I put sleeping poison on rabbit."

"Poison? You _poisoned _me?"

"Not dangerous poison; just to make you sleep. You need good sleep. Also, you are in danger – I had to bring you here. Here you are safe."

"What are you talking about? You poisoned me! How am I safe here? How am I in danger? Who _are _you?" Clarke's voice had raised a couple of pitches and she was trembling. She felt very small all of the sudden, like a little girl struggling to understand the urgent whispers of those around her. How did she always get swept up in other people's plans?

"If you sit and eat" She began "I answer all questions."

"I'm not eating anything you give me!" Clarke snapped.

Without hesitation, the woman grabbed Clarke's bowl and poured about a fourth of its contents into her own, mixing them together before taking an exaggerated bite, and then pointedly looking at Clarke with her white globes.

"Sit. Eat. You need strength."

Clarke did not move. Her heart was pounding rapidly in her chest, making the pounding in her head worse. There was glass scattered on the floor around her feet and somehow it made her afraid to move, lest she cut herself on it. This was irrational, she knew this, all she had to do was take a large step to her right and she'd be free, but she was frozen, desperately clutching Athena to her chest as though she were the only thing keeping her grounded.

She felt it in the back of her mind, rearing its head, surging forward into the center of her thoughts, tendrils flashing out and grabbing hold of everything, pulling them closer and strangling them in its darkness. Her breathing became shallow, she felt faint, she tried to clear her mind but it only made it worse, all of her fear and pain tumbling through her body. She couldn't breathe.

Panic tore through her, and she surged forward into the table, thrusting Athena on to it before clutching the sides, her knees buckling under her weight. Black and white spots danced in front of her eyes, and the back of her skull felt like it was on fire. Tears flooded her eyes, as she desperately attempted to gasp in air, her body shuddering as it felt itself drowning in space.

Suddenly she felt pressure on the base of her spine. She jumped, instinctively straightening herself, to find the crone standing close to her, one hand on the back, and the other placed over her chest which rose and fell rapidly beneath it.

"Focus on the pressure." The woman said quietly, strengthening her push against both spots, further straightening Clarke.

Clarke's mind automatically did as it was told, desperate for some sort of hold. She was surprised to feel warmth suddenly streaming from both spots, spreading out across her skin, fighting back the shudders that had only second before racked her body. Her chest loosened beneath the woman's touch, and she began breathing deeply, closing her eyes and focusing on the warmth, on every part of her still sore body that began to come undone.

After a while, she opened her eyes again, and the crone dropped her hands. She cocked her head to one side, as if evaluating something, before saying slowly: "Your spirit… it is… wrong. It does not move as it should."

"What?" Clarke said, her voice more of a torn croak than anything.

The crone sighed, shaking her head slightly. "Sit. Eat. We must talk."

Clarke's eyes slowly found the bowl on the table, but she also found Athena's face in it, licking the sides.

"Athena ate my food." Clarke muttered, taking a step over the glass and grabbing Athena from the table. She yipped happily and licked Clarke's face, making her smile.

"Get more. If the Fenrif does not die, you know it is not poisoned."

Clarke blinked at the woman. "In the same bowl?" Her eyes fell on the saliva bubbles trailing down the side of the rough ceramic.

The woman stopped eating for a moment to look in Clarke's general direction. "There is hot water over fire if you need."

Placing Athena back down, Clarke grabbed her bowl and slowly made her way over to the warmth of the fire, her body still sluggish from the sudden panic attack. She carefully grabbed the wooden hilt of the pot that hung at a higher point over the fire, pouring some steaming water in the bowl before quickly swishing it around and pouring it into the fire, which hissed and stuttered for a moment. Grabbing the ladle, she gave herself a large helping of the thick reddish stew before sitting down on the stool opposite the woman.

Picking up the small wooden spoon and stirring the stew, she looked up at the woman, who seemed to be absent-mindedly stroking Athena's spine, her brows furrowed.

"Are you going to tell me what all this is about?"

"There are many questions you have. Ask me and I shall answer."

"Okay." Clarke said, taking a hesitant bite of her food, stalling for time. She was surprised by how good it tasted, and her stomach let out a growl of approval. "Why do I feel like crap? I have an enormous headache, my entire body hurts, I feel like a have a fever-"

"Fever?" The woman interrupted with a confused look.

"Yes. Fever. My skin is hotter than it should be. I feel sick."

"You have a bad… feeling to the sleeping poison."

"A bad feeling? You mean a bad reaction?"

The crone shrugged, her head still facing off to the side of Clarke, her hand trailing Athena's fur who was stretched out on the table. "Maybe. You got sick. Your body does not act the way mine does. It was too much."

"So it was dangerous?" Clarke growled.

"The poison can be used to kill people, yes. But I did not want to kill you. Just let you sleep."

Clarke tried not to be too angry about this. The woman had taken care of all her wounds, and now seemed to be telling the truth, but it was hard to say for sure with nothing but pale white orbs staring back at her. The black scars shifted suddenly as the crone turned to face Clarke, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she suddenly felt like she was being watched.

Clearing her throat, she looked down at her stew as she took another bite, attempting to collect her thoughts.

"What is it with you and sleep?"

"What?"

"Why do you keep saying I need to sleep?"

"Your spirit is in pain. Sleep can help. But this sleep did not."

Now it was Clarke's turn to be confused. "What?"

The crone stopped petting Athena, instead folding both her hands together in front of her on the table and leaning forward, staring straight at Clarke.

"Your spirit does not move. It is frozen in place. This is painful. You do not deal with problems you need to. Sleep, dreams, give us time to deal with our pain, but poison was too much for you. You did not dream."

"Why do you think my spirit is frozen?" Clarke asked, confused by the whole idea. She had never been very spiritual, the ark had not had much room for that. Even though she had occasionally stopped by the spiritual leadings of Kane's mother, she had never bought in to it. It had always seem too far removed. But the longer she stayed on earth, the more she realized that the grounders, as brutal as they were, were also very spiritual.

"That is an answer for a different time. I will answer, but not today. Ask another."

"Why did you say I was in danger?"

"Because of the mountain."

Clarke swallowed wrong, the stew blocking her airway suddenly and forcing her to cough and heave loudly for a few minutes before she could respond to that answer.

"How do you know about the mountain?"

"Every clan will know about that mountain by the next moon. Word of you travels fast, Clarke kom Skaikru."

"Well, what about it? I saved my people, that's all that matters." Clarke growled, gripping her spoon tightly and staring back at the white orbs, refusing to flinch.

"You killed a mountain. A mountain that has ruled the clans for many moons. It is about more than just your people. You control death. You are Wanheda."

"The…commander of death?"

The crone nodded solemnly. "You have power. Power the clans want. If they kill you, they own you. You are being hunted."

Her chest began restricting again, but Clarke pushed through it, breathing in deeply. "But you apparently don't want to kill me. You say you want to help me. Why?"

"I know things the clans only dream of. I hear things in the wind. A greater war is coming, and without you we will all die."


End file.
